


Mending

by Amali



Series: Regenerating [2]
Category: The Hobbit (Jackson Movies), The Hobbit - All Media Types, The Hobbit - J. R. R. Tolkien
Genre: F/M, Female Bilbo, M/M, Nothing explicit, but probably triggering, mentions of past rape
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2013-07-12
Updated: 2017-08-19
Packaged: 2017-12-19 07:26:42
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings, Graphic Depictions Of Violence, Rape/Non-Con
Chapters: 19
Words: 99,947
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/881057
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Amali/pseuds/Amali
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Thorin doesn't trust many, and Belladonna Baggins might top the list of those he doesn't. But as the quest for Erebor encounters more difficulty than he could have dreamed of, he finds himself having to reconsider his initial impression of his burglar.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> As promised, the prequel to [Healing](http://archiveofourown.org/works/850793/navigate), from Thorin's perspective. I hope it was worth the wait!

“Do you remember what this looked like when we first arrived?” Thorin turned from his contemplation of the uncertain road ahead and tried to smile at his sister standing on the steps above him. His pony snorted at the inattention of her rider and whisked her tail in protest, but Thorin soothed her as he glanced up at the fortress he and his father had rebuilt, a pale mockery of the halls they longed for. Still, it had been a good home, a place to nurse their strength and hide away from the wider world, and he was surprised to find that he would miss it.

“Of course I do.” Believed to be a colony of Tumunzahar, the fortress had hidden underneath centuries of debris from the forest, scorched by wild fire, and filled with rubble. But the foundations had been as strong as any dwarf could make, and now the panes of thick glass shone in the early morning light.

“Then be prepared for Erebor to look somewhat similar.” The tall princess drew her fur coat close around her shoulders. “I will await word, my brother. For as long as I must.”

“Then may Mahal’s hammer shelter you, Dís.” There was nothing else to say. Dís was a more than capable regent, respected by even the most irascible nobles, and she had long since worn out her arguments against his going and taking her sons. Fíli and Kíli had sworn as _shomakhîth_ the day they came of age and their mother had no recourse to stop them following their King. She turned so she would not see him leave and Thorin nudged his pony into a fast walk, unwilling to risk anything faster on the steep road winding down to the plains. He knew spring had begun down below, but the earth was still hard as iron and his only company was the echo of hoof beats against the rock of the pass until night. He felt an itch between his shoulder blades and made his campsite as defensible as possible, knowing he was too vulnerable to attack from any number of factions within and outside his kingdom and even his own kind. By his previous travels the king knew it would be a week of long days to reach Hobbiton, but he had not expected to be leaving alone.

Despite his dark thoughts, the miles passed quickly once he was on the road that passed south of the Far Downs, and Thorin enjoyed the solitude of the rolling plains, secure in the fact an ambush would be impossible, singing the songs of his childhood and fingers itching for his harp. He fancied he could see his companion’s dust trails on the horizon and pushed his pony harder than he should have, losing several hours the next morning waiting for her to recover as he went over his equipment and mended a hole already torn in his bedroll, grumbling over his inferior needle as he quickly sewed. Some had expressed surprise that he would do these small chores, but his fingers were more nimble than any would give him credit for, and all the dwarves of the Blue Mountains had better things to do. Such as find food, though the shortages were not as bad as they had been. Thorin shook his head and pushed such thoughts from his mind, his hand going up to touch the golden chain tucked under his coat. Dís had pressed the necklace on him, and he had been reluctant to take it.

But his sister was as unshakable as the roots of mountains, and for all that he had been King for nearly a century, Thorin sometimes wondered if he should not have stepped aside and made her ruler instead. There would have been little opposition and precedent was on his side, but she had been newly married and happy. The day of her marriage the golden treasure had decorated her neck, as it had once adorned their long dead mother and grandmother before her. There was no lore or great deed of smithing attached to the chain, but it was one of the few remaining heirlooms of Erebor and the only one belonging to their family alone. He found himself touching it more and more as he left the Blue Mountains behind. With a snort, Thorin brought himself back to the present and finished his work efficiently. His pony seemed to have her energy back and Thorin packed everything, his head bent over his pack but his ears straining to catch the first sign of danger. And despite the quiet peace of the plains, his unease grew over the next few days until he crested a hill and saw the green patchwork of the Shire spreading below him, promising peace and rest.

Not unexpectedly, the town of Michel Delving paid no attention to the arrival of one more dwarf, for all that he wore armor and a coat of fur, and Thorin heard from an innkeeper that several other dwarves had passed through the previous day. Heartened, Thorin decided to push on, knowing the date of the meeting was only two days away, and found a small inn in Waymoot, listening to the gossip in the main room. Most of it centered around the strangeness of the Tooks, who lived nearby in their own community, and Thorin did his best not to listen. One loud hobbit caught the dwarf’s attention, however, and Thorin couldn’t shake the strange feeling in his stomach.

“Everyone knows the Tooks have strange views on their woman. Look at what happened to that…”

“Shut up, Rollo.” Another hobbit male grabbed Rollo’s sleeve and pulled him back to the bench. “There’s no need to talk like that.”

“You would say that, since she’s your cousin.”

“And we’ve a guest, who doesn’t need to hear about such things.” Thorin snorted as he finished his stew and let his hand linger over his axe. He had far more important things to worry about than idle gossip, disgusting though it was, of silly hobbits. When he shoved back from the table and made his way to his room, he passed closer than he would have liked to Rollo’s table and shot the hobbit a glare. If a dwarf had said something obviously meant to hurt a female, Thorin would have set him down and resorted to his fists if the other would not listen to reason, but he was a stranger here and his kingdom depended on trade with and through the Shire. But he lay awake far into the night, wishing he knew the story behind Rollo’s posturing and hating that he cared.

 

 The strange little hobbit dwellings grew in number as he got closer to Hobbiton and Thorin tried to pay attention to the road, Gandalf’s hasty directions making less and less sense as the light faded and the turns became less visible. “It’s on top of the hill with the large tree? I’m so glad there’s only five within sight right now.” Thorin patted his pony’s neck and looked around at the empty lanes, cursing all Wizards under his breath. The thought of knocking on some poor hobbit’s door and presenting himself, wearing armor and carrying an axe taller than them did not appeal. They would be more likely to raise an alarm than help him, and Thorin was sure their prospective burglar would not appreciate the fuss. So he rode back and forth, until true night had fallen and he was standing in an empty field under a large tree. Suddenly he heard the low strains of music and glanced up, seeing the low glow of the rune Gandalf had said would lead them to their destination. With a huff of frustration, Thorin gathered his coat around his shoulders and dropped his pony’s reins, knowing the well trained animal wouldn’t move and made his way up the hill, winding back and forth until he reached the cursed green door with the glowing rune and pushed the gate open none too gently, letting it slam back behind him.

The king felt his temper slipping as he pounded on the green door and waited, glancing over at the expansive garden, noting a clump of lavender buds yet to bloom as the portal finally opened for him. He glanced in and up, seeing the familiar face of the Wizard with a rush of relief he hoped didn’t show on his face as he entered and tossed his cloak aside, making a jest of his tardiness while throwing Kíli a reassuring smile. His nephew smiled in return, holding himself tall, but there was something in his stance that told his uncle there was something wrong. And then Thorin’s smile slipped as a short hobbit lass, her honey brown curls unbound, pushed through the comforting circle of his most loyal dwarves to confront Gandalf about her door, green eyes flashing. “What mark? Gandalf, what have you done?” Her hands clenched in fists she planted into her hips, her scowl deepening as she glared up at a being nearly twice her height. “What if someone else had noticed? It was bad enough you inviting them over unannounced but imagine if Hamfast or worse, Lobelia decided to investigate!”

“Neither of them is in the habit of being out past dark, Belladonna.” Gandalf knelt and stared into her eyes. “I know it was difficult letting them inside but…”

“Gandalf, are you saying you didn’t inform the lady of the hall that we would be imposing on her?” Thorin scowled over at Dwalin, who had insisted on being first to arrive. The tall warrior shrugged uncomfortably and flashed a quick _iglishmêk_ sign promising to tell more when there was time.

“I am afraid with all the other things I had to see to, it slipped my mind. But no harm done. She fed you all well, I think, and saw to your comforts. Now, Belladonna, before we get to the business of the evening, let me introduce the leader of our Company, and King among the dwarves, Thorin Oakenshield.” She turned her angry eyes to him, and Thorin watched her shrink backwards before bobbing her head quickly. In a rustle of skirts, she was gone, and Thorin was sure he heard her muttering about another mouth to feed as he was led to a cozy dining room, his dwarves sitting quietly. Before Gandalf reappeared, Thorin leaned forward and made sure everyone’s gaze was on him. He spoke quickly in Khuzdul, and kept his eye on Dwalin.

“What happened?”

“She was ready for bed but she answered the door holding a poker and I thought for a moment I might have to fight her. But I mentioned the Wizard and she seems to trust him enough to allow me inside. You wouldn’t believe how much food she had stored away, and she offered it freely as a proper host. She’s been waiting on us all night, but I imagine one more arrival was more than she could take.”

“I hope you left me something.” Thorin meant it as a joke, but the identical guilt that flashed across everyone’s face sank his empty stomach. Before he could speak a soft voice broke into their conference.

“Mister Oakenshield?” Balin opened his mouth to correct her but Thorin saw the soup and ale in her hands and waved an imperious hand. She could be instructed to proper address later. Belladonna set down the food and disappeared, coming back with a plate with a few biscuits that still steamed. Thorin ate everything, marveling at how the simple flavors combined to create a meal he would have been proud to lay before his people, and glanced up at Belladonna to thank her when Gandalf’s words in the Prancing Pony rose to the top of his mind.

“ _This_ is the hobbit you spoke of, Gandalf?” Thorin whirled to confront a smoking shadow and found his voice climbing in volume. “You would ask a gentle child of a gentler land to confront the calamity of our Age?”

“Pardon you?” The little female twirled again, staring at Thorin with wide eyes. Thorin noted she was light on her feet, her every move a dance compared to the deliberate motions of her guests, but the fear in her eyes inspired no confidence. This was the fight for his life, home and people, and the pipeweed addled Wizard was trusting a weak hobbit? Thorin rose to his feet without thinking, taking a step towards her as he spoke.

“You heard me, Halfling. You would be a burden.” She shrank back and Thorin froze, realizing he had put too much threat into his posture and words. He held up his hands and sank back into his seat, watching the tension bleed from her as she retreated into the corridor. “My apologies.”

“I would just like to know what you’re all talking about. Despite the rumors about us, hobbits are not magic folk and I can not divine your reasons for invading my home and…” Tears filled her eyes and she spun to hide the fact, and Thorin’s heart was torn between guilt and vindication. “Gandalf, please speak plainly.”

“How much have you read of the dwarves?”

“Very little. It is difficult to track down books about their history and culture. I have one book written about the War of Wrath that briefly mentions the involvement of Durin and his people.” She turned, and while her eyelashes were matted her eyes were clear and a small smile turned the corner of her mouth into an almost impish expression. “And I heard something of the settlement in the Blue Mountains when one of the traveling smiths did some repairs for me. He did excellent work. I haven’t needed new pans in years.” She glanced at Thorin, who couldn’t help the prideful expression he gave her in return, and her eyebrows knit. “And I believe he may have mentioned his King Thorin, now that I think of it. Are you all from Ered Luin?”

“We are.”

“And why are you here?” Thorin opened his mouth then closed it, the words choking his throat. Gandalf stepped into the gap with a terse account of the fall of Erebor and the desire of the dwarves to reclaim their home. Suddenly a folded piece of parchment and a heavy black key were on the table and Thorin felt his body tense as Belladonna stepped forward, her slender hand resting on the table as she set a candle down without being asked, then retreated against the wall. Gandalf’s explanation of how he had received the two most important treasures Thorin had never known he had been missing was astonishing and made believable only by Balin and Dwalin’s anguished mummers about the edges of Mirkwood and how Thráin had disappeared there.

“Is this why you recommended the hobbit?”

“Belladonna is the best the Shire has to offer.” Gandalf drew himself to his full height, and though he sat his presence was overwhelming. Thorin threaded the key onto Dís’ gold chain and scowled. “She is clever, educated, curious and the best thief of apples and mushrooms in many a generation. She will need all those attributes to face Smaug to steal away your Mountain, Thorin, and there is no other I can recommend in the interest of seeing you succeed.” Every eye in the room swung to the small female leaning on the wall, her hands pressed over her stomach and her face green.

“Gandalf, why couldn’t you have told me about this idea this morning? I could have spared you all the journey.”

“Belladonna Baggins, look at me.” She raised her head, face anguished, and stared past Thorin to meet the Wizard’s eye. “You are the only one I can trust to help on this matter. We need you.” She took a deep breath and her shoulders slumped before she stood from the wall and looked around the room.

“What would you have me do?” Thorin jerked his head at Balin, who produced a contract already signed and witnessed but for her signature.

“Help them to Erebor and discover a way to use the map and key. I believe they hold the secret to Smaug’s defeat and I think, Thorin, that you might find the journey difficult without these three weapons.” Belladonna protested such a comparison but her small voice was buried under the roar of blood in Thorin’s ears, the threat plain. With a growl, he shoved the contract at Belladonna, and even as she shook and questioned the language involved, she finished reading and took a deep breath.

“There’s pen and ink in my study. A moment, please.” She was gone for nearly ten minutes, and Thorin needed every second to bring his temper under control. When she handed Balin the contract, Thorin caught sight of an envelope in her other hand, but she had her own questions for him, asking after travel conditions and what supplies she might need. Despite himself, Thorin was grateful she had some experience with what they might face and answered her questions as best as he could.

“Have you done much hard travel?”

“I once walked the length and breadth of the Shire and sometimes beyond. But not in long years.” Thorin hid his contempt as she disappeared. The Shire? A tiny pocket of land compared to the road ahead of them, and she was out of condition, soft and pampered by the work of others. And now, despite his words to Gandalf, he knew if she died he would carry the guilt for the rest of his life. Against his will and best intentions, she was part of the Company and Thorin wondered how she might help them, and how she might harm them. Balin appeared from the parlor and sat across from Thorin, saying nothing. Thorin struggled against his urge to talk, but Balin knew how to out wait rocks and the king gave up his internal fight.

“She will slow us down.”

“No more than I will, laddie.” Thorin folded his arms and leaned against the wall, surprised at how comfortable his dwarves seemed to be in the rounded tunnels, not a pebble to be seen. He hadn’t seen Balin so at ease in years. “Miss Baggins may not be all she seems, else Gandalf would not recommend her so strongly. The Wizard is older than many elves and he must have met thousands of beings in his life. And how many do you think he looks at like he looks at her?”

“How does he look at her?”

“Like a daughter.” Thorin looked away, unable to meet Balin’s eyes. Wife and daughter dead in childbirth, and all for the want of a clean place to live. The long road from Erebor to Dunland, and then from Dunland to the Blue Mountains, had claimed nearly half the survivors of the dragon’s attack. The hobbit appeared and stood in front of both dwarves, her hands in her skirts and her eyes resting somewhere between them.

“I imagine we’ll be starting early. There is some food and pipeweed left in the kitchen and you are all welcome to it.”

“Thank you, miss Baggins.” Balin smiled but she kept her eyes averted.

“Good night, then.” Balin raised his eyebrow as Thorin said nothing, and Belladonna was gone as silently as she had appeared. “Come on, lad. You could at least smile at her.”

“It would frighten her.” Thorin snorted as he followed his chuckling councilor to the parlor. He ducked into the kitchen and took a pinch of pipeweed she had offered, savoring the smooth taste as he stood in front of the fireplace, staring at the engravings dotting the mantle. He could see her grow from a snub nosed child into a dainty girl, but something in her expression in the next picture caught his eye. Her gaze was mingled defiance and fear as she sat beneath a tree and looked at the artist, her hands in her lap and her hair cascading over one shoulder. It felt vaguely indecent to look at her hair unbound but he had enough dealings with hobbits to know it was their way.

Balin stood by him and sighed. “So we finally have ourselves a burglar.”

“Over my objections, but what else was I to do? Gandalf all but threatened to destroy the map and key!”

“Peace, lad. I think he has his reasons and he’s not doing this to harm us or the quest.”

“No one else has ever cared enough to help.” Thorin put his hand to his face and squeezed his temples for a moment. “It’s strange and I can’t help but distrust her motives. There is something she’s not telling us, and it may be something that might hurt us when we’re on the road.” Balin sighed but said nothing as the fire settled, shooting sparks up the chimney. Finally the elderly councilor pitched his voice for his King’s ears only.

“Enjoy the safety of this house tonight. It will be the last restful night for months, I think.” Thorin nodded heavily and glanced around the room, gauging the atmosphere and realizing his fight with the Wizard had cast a pall over the Company. He wanted them to be mindful of the seriousness of their journey, but neither could they dwell on the likelihood of death. So he turned to look at Fíli and jerked his head slightly, and to Thorin’s surprise Fíli lowered his pipe and nodded towards his fiddle, the neck unwrapped and showing the dark wood carved into a fanciful boar’s head, then touched his pipe to his mouth, his meaning plain. Prince in exile, born in poverty, but the lad was a credit to the line of Durin and had the easy charm of his father that his uncle lacked. Fíli would be a good king, and Thorin felt his resolve grow to set his nephew on the throne of Erebor.

The dark haired dwarf took a deep breath, preparing the only song he could think of in the circumstances. He started off low, letting everyone else join in as they wanted, not making eye contact until they finished, nodding to each of them as they stood straighter, bearings proud. They were few, but Thorin had meant what he told Balin, and let his pride break through his normal mask as the others began to make their way to the rooms the hobbit had prepared sometime between cooking for them and agreeing to risk her life for a cause not her own. As Thorin took a moment to enjoy the solitude that would be lacking soon enough, he heard a soft sob from the hall opposite the guest wing, stifled quickly. Curious, Thorin eased himself forward as quietly as he could and caught a glimpse of Belladonna, tears coursing down her cheeks as she crouched out of sight from the parlor. Her small hands clutched her knees and she threw her head back, blinking furiously. Thorin scowled as he went back to the cozy armchair next to a pile of books as tall as he and finished his pipe as he brooded.

A boot scratched along the wood floor and Thorin lashed out instinctively catching Dwalin’s fist before it hit his shoulder. “You’ll need to be faster than that, Dwalin.”

“Not bad for an old dwarf.” Dwalin sat in the chair opposite. “You should sleep.”

“Did Dís happen to pass on some instructions before you left? I’m fine.”

“You should still sleep. The lass made you a room at the end of the hall.”

“Why her?”

“Don’t look at me. She’s no warrior. But the Wizard had a point. She’s light enough on her feet she snuck up on me three times before Balin arrived, and after the first time I was on guard.” Thorin leaned back, staring at the ceiling to hide his surprise.

“Nevertheless, I meant what I said.”

“It applies to us all.” Dwalin glanced towards the other hall and frowned. “Do you fear for her safety?”

“She has a home. Why would she so easily agree to leave to face an uncertain future?”

“Why are we?” Thorin grumbled, but Dwalin knew the answer. “Because sometimes there is no other choice. Face forward, Thorin.”

“Face forward.” Thorin echoed softly. It was an admonishment from his grandfather than had become a talisman, and as the weary dwarf sat under the hill, he determined that he would do his best to obey.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Tumunzahar - Nogrod


	2. Chapter 2

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> The journey begins, and Thorin finds himself battling his dreams.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This chapter has some dark imagery. Nothing explicit but not pleasant. My headspace has been a little dark, it needed an outlet, and poor Thorin born the brunt.

_Dunland was a harsh place, the margins of many great lands where the outcasts had been pushed over the centuries. The ground was poor for farmers, but where humans failed to find wealth the dwarves of Erebor could create it from the rocky soil. Thorin was only thirty when he came out of the meager mine to hear screaming from the caves. He knew that scream. Without thinking, he whirled and bellowed his brother’s name before sprinting across the saddle that connected the two large hills that the refugees had colonized. But his feet were heavy and the path narrow, his progress minimal. The ground became mud and then a swamp, sucking him down to his knees. And still the screams rang in his ears and Thorin began to scream in return, unable to stop them…_

Thorin jerked awake to someone pounding on the door, his dagger flashing out without thought, nearly nicking his ear in the process. He snarled a reply to whoever had saved him and heard Dwalin’s laughter as the warrior retreated. The king’s nightmares had left his jaw aching and a headache blooming behind his right eye, but he had suffered worse and he would not show his pain to the Company. The gray light that heralded dawn’s break filled the room, and giving up on catching a few more minutes of rest, Thorin put on his many layers, socks, small clothes and hose before pulling on his heavy breeches and under tunic of heavy wool. His outer tunic and mail could wait until after breakfast. The necklace and key were tucked next to his skin, warming slowly as Thorin located his boots under the bed and tugged them on, appreciating the fine craftsmanship that lent him support. He let his coat off for the moment, and emerged into the hall to see Kíli and Ori stumbling from their bedroom with bleary eyes, clearly feeling the effects of the hobbit’s beer. Thorin clapped them both on the shoulder and chuckled as they winced. It was good to see someone feeling worse than he was. “Morning, lads.” Already the nightmare was fading, pushed aside by the demands of the day, but he knew it would return.

“Morning, Uncle.” Kíli groaned as Ori stuttered a quiet reply, still unused to being in the presence of his king for all that they were kin. “Leave us be.”

“You’re lucky the most dangerous thing in the Shire is an enraged pig, sister son.”

“There’s no beer in the Wilds, either.” Kíli went to his pack as the trio entered the parlor, but all three froze as the scent of frying sausages hit them. Kíli whooped as he took off for the kitchen, Ori not far behind, and Thorin tried to stifle his sigh as he followed them into the dining room. Belladonna, wearing much more practical breeches and shirt under a sturdy red jacket, turned from placing a plate in front of Nori and nodded her head. He nodded back in return, unsure what to say to her and aware that she and his dreams were linked somehow. Realizing he was staring at her curls too openly, Thorin turned away quickly and sat, but Belladonna appeared at his elbow, sliding a large mug to the table in front of him. He raised his eyes to hers as she began to speak.

“Good morning, Mister Oakenshield. I popped round to the neighbors for some food, as Gandalf said you would need to hoard your provisions.” Thorin couldn’t answer as he stared at the heaping plates of eggs, sausages, fried bread, mushrooms and grilled tomatoes that sat in front of each of the Company. He had eaten less over the course of days. She paused on the threshold to the kitchen, then shook her head and disappeared as Thorin wrapped his hand around the large mug. The tea steamed in the early morning light and his mouth watered as she presented him with his own plate and sat next to him, crunching into her toast.

“When did you find the time to do this for us?”

“Oh, I don’t sleep much.” She kept her eyes on her plate and rested her hands in her lap. It wasn’t an answer, really, but Thorin’s mouth was full of food and the table was quiet as they ate. She slipped away when her plate was clear and appeared with a sturdy pack and a walking stick as Kíli and Ori did the dishes and the others finished the last touches on their belongings. Thorin noticed there was an envelope on the mantel, the front simply reading ‘ _Attention of Messrs. Lightfoot and Bolger_ ’, and Belladonna stared up at the large pictures over the mantle until Bofur accidently brushed into her and she leapt into the air, bringing her stick around in an instinctive protective gesture, eyes wide as she stared up at the miner. “Mister…Bofur, was it? My apologies.”

“My fault, lass.” Amid the bustle she disappeared and Thorin found her waiting outside, standing amid her garden looking lost. She tensed as he approached, her eyes flickering between his hands and feet.

“A few things before we go, Miss Baggins. I am not Mister Oakenshield.”

“Is Oakenshield not your name?”

“It is a title I earned when I was young. Simply call me Thorin. And I expect you to carry your own weight. We have many months of travel if nothing goes wrong, and we have no time to spare.” She blinked and nodded, biting the corner of her lip and staring somewhere between his neck and jaw. Not having her meet his eyes was irritating and Thorin turned away as Dori and Glóin started leading their ponies up the lane to begin loading the saddlebags. Belladonna stared at the animals in alarm and stumbled backwards, her voice rising in panic.

“You don’t expect me to ride one of those things, do you?”

“I will tolerate no delays, Miss Baggins. We promised to meet Gandalf at the Green Dragon in an hour and we have much to do.” Thorin went back inside and soon had everyone gathered on the lawn, getting the ponies ready and doing all the last minute chores that made travel with a group bearable. Their burglar stayed out of the way, staring up at her door with a strange look in her eyes until Thorin declared they were ready and she locked the portal, tucking the key into the lavender’s pot. She lingered until Fíli caught her attention and helped her on her pony, where her uncomfortable seat showed her inexperience. She tried her best to keep up, but by the time they reached the Green Dragon and many of the Shire’s inhabitants were stirring outside their doors she was trailing behind.

As they neared the inn, Thorin noticed the stares from the other hobbits were directed at Belladonna, but no one raised a hand in greeting or asked where she was going. At the inn, Gandalf stood by his tall horse and beamed at them all, leaning on his staff and his hat shading his eyes. Thorin took note of when the Wizard glanced at the hobbit, and Balin had been correct. There was something else, a tinge of what the king would call guilt, but it was gone in an instant as Gandalf swung into his saddle easily. Suddenly Belladonna wheeled her pony, staring back at the hill where her home was. “Can I go grab a handkerchief? Please?” All the dwarves turned to stare at her, Thorin furious, Balin nonplussed, and Bofur with sympathy, while the rest simply looked stunned. Gandalf moved his horse to her and kept his voice low, but Thorin was close enough to hear him.

“You will have to do without much more than handkerchiefs on this journey, Belladonna.”

“But…” She glanced over at Thorin and straightened, her cheeks stained red. “Fine. Let’s go.” Bofur, his ever present grin flashing, ripped the pocket off his jacket and flung it at the startled hobbit, who stared down at the grubby fabric for a long moment. Her jaw firmed as she glared up at them all, and she heeled her pony angrily, staying as close to Gandalf as she could. In daytime, navigating back to the East-West road was easier, and soon enough they were making good progress. Some raised their voices in songs, simple tunes that echoed the rhythm of the hoof beats of their mounts, though their king remained quiet, focused on the road ahead.

Belladonna and Gandalf rode behind Thorin, and he couldn’t help listening to their one sided conversation. The Wizard was reminiscing about times long past, when she was a child and a troublemaker. Thorin almost found himself laughing at the recounting of a particular prank that involved some fireworks, a badger and a spoon that had apparently earned her the personal enmity of a hobbit called Lobelia. Thorin wanted to ask why Belladonna had been worried about the same hobbit showing up but didn’t want to admit he had been eavesdropping. But if that was the worst the hobbits had to worry about, they lived sheltered lives indeed. “Gandalf, I put those days behind me long ago.”

“Too long, my child. Why, what does the Thain say when he sees you now?”

“The Tooks have nothing to do with me, Gandalf.” Belladonna sounded sad and Thorin couldn’t help but glance over his shoulder, trying to disguise the movement as checking on Nori and Fíli at the end of the caravan. “The Baggins tolerate me and I am content with my books.”

“Not so content, my dear, else you would not be here.” She sniffed and said nothing, despite Thorin’s silent plea for her to explain her presence. Finally she spoke, quietly enough he wasn’t sure he was hearing correctly.

“Sometimes there are things that are bigger than you and you find yourself swept off your feet before you know what’s happening.” Gandalf said nothing and silence ruled the rest of the morning. Thorin kept his hand on his axe and kept his eyes moving, trusting that Dwalin would be keeping an eye on the rear of the trail. Thorin did not fear bandits in the Shire, though it paid to be cautious, and they stayed in a small inn in Whitfurrows that night, another trading town where even a train of dwarves raised no questions. Belladonna, her head bowed, stuck close to Gandalf and ignored the rest of the common room, but the innkeeper didn’t come to collect money at any point during the meal. Confused, Thorin sent Glóin to pay out of the Company’s purse and the red haired dwarf was back in less than a minute, glancing over at their burglar before explaining the situation. It seemed she was a hobbit of some property and she owned the land the inn had been built on, and her presence meant the food and board was free to the entire Company. Thorin instructed Glóin to tip the innkeeper the next morning and went to thank Belladonna for her unexpected help. But she had disappeared before Thorin had finished eating.

  

_Frerin ran across the saddle, his golden hair catching the weak winter sun. Thorin wondered why seeing his brother hurt so badly as he scrambled up the slope, avoiding the main gates. The screams were coming from the meager gardens that had been started to supplement the infrequent food shipments, and Dís had taken charge of the endeavor. Thorin was rounding the corner when the ground sank beneath him and a chasm opened, sending him falling into darkness that was never ending, but the screams only grew louder. Thorin tried to right himself but he kept tumbling on until he was sure he would die from his fear…_

Thorin woke with a shout, his entire body drenched in sweat. Grateful he had been offered his own small room, he fell out of bed to his knees before making his way to the basin of water on the nightstand and splashed the cool liquid on his face, hands trembling. Why now? He thought he had left this particular nightmare long ago. Knowing he would find no more rest this night, Thorin dug in his pack and found the travel harp Dís had pressed on him when the quest had first been announced. The trapezoid frame was birch, engraved with intertwined beasts and whorls, their amber eyes shining in the light from the half moon sailing overhead. The lap harp didn’t bring the same feeling as playing his standing harp, but the simple notes soothed him as he played a lament for Erebor, humming the words under his breath. He heard a noise out in the hall but did not cease his song, and no one knocked on his door until the golden light of dawn had lit the horizon.

The innkeeper bowed over Belladonna’s hand and waved them off, a marked contrast to their departure from Hobbiton. The hobbit seemed cheerful, smiling more at Gandalf’s stories, but before the morning was over a rainstorm washed over them and the mood of the Company sank as they made their way through the woods. Belladonna was an indistinct bundle under Dwalin’s spare cloak, her bare feet in the stirrups the only indication a being rode the pony instead of luggage. Dori complained loudly and they were treated to a brief story about the other Wizards, until the storm moved on and they were finally at the boundaries at the Shire. “Halfling, what’s the best way to enter Bree?” Belladonna froze in the act of removing her cloak and stared down at her saddle. Gandalf coughed as he pulled his pipe from his lips and heeled his horse to the lead of the caravan.

“The side-gate at this time of day. Follow me.” Thorin frowned and glanced between the two, then jerked his head to Bofur. The miner raised an eyebrow and came closer. Thorin kept his voice low.

“Keep an eye on her. Clearly she is ill at ease.”

“Of course.”

“I mislike dealing with the Men here. See if we can get our needed supplies from the hobbits instead.”

“I’ll see if she’ll aid us there.” Thorin followed Gandalf through the muddy streets of Bree, wishing he could hold something to his nose, but such an action would bring unwanted attention. There were a few pleasant humans in Bree, young Butterbur the one best known to the dwarves, but many had a strange look that set off alarm bells in Thorin’s head every time he passed through.

But at the Prancing Pony, despite Bofur’s charms, Belladonna refused to set foot from the inn and Gandalf deflected Thorin’s idea, stepping in himself to negotiate with some of the merchants for food. The Company was rowdy that night, knowing it would be the last night of comfortable beds, food they had not made, and beer. Thorin kept an eye on the younger members of the Company, frowning at Kíli as the young Prince called for his sixth pint. Kíli just grinned as the large mug was plunked to the wood table by a surly hobbit. Belladonna shuddered, hard enough for Thorin to feel down the bench, and he glanced over at her, perplexed. She was avoiding looking at anyone in the common room, and ignored Bofur’s attempts to bring a smile to her face. Finally he set down his mug, pushed his hat back, and looked at her critically.

“Halfling, are you all right?”

“Fine.” She didn’t even glance up to acknowledge Bofur’s gentle question and Thorin opened his mouth to rebuke her for her rudeness when Dwalin shook his head slightly. Bofur shrugged, seemingly unaffected, and simply kept talking about the Blue Mountains, how the fortress was possibly older than the Shire, how some of the murals in the throne room used materials unknown to the keenest of scholars. She seemed to perk up and Thorin went back to keeping his nephews from passing out drunk. The night ended on a merry note, everyone singing as they trooped back to their rooms. But Belladonna shook as she walked in front of Thorin, her hands clenched in fists and feet unsteady. Thorin said nothing, but made sure he heard the bolt slide home on her door before going to his own room with Dwalin and Balin, and he found sleep elusive.

 

_He rounded the hill and saw Frerin standing over two figures. His brother’s broad body blocked Thorin’s view and his heart beat loudly in his ears as he sought purchase on the rough path, his lungs on fire and his entire body focused on reaching the summit. His sister’s screams continued unabated, but there was a word she kept saying that he couldn’t understand, and he needed to. He tried to say her name, to let her know that he was coming to help, but as he grew closer he wasn’t sure she would believe him..._

 Balin was shaking him awake, and Dwalin was holding his hands to stop the king from going for his weapons. “Lad! It’s alright, you’re alright.”

“Dís.”

“She’s fine. You know she’s fine.”

“No I don’t.” The sons of Fundin glanced at the other, letting Thorin go as they tried to reason with him.

“She’s safe. She has her own guard and I would trust her skills against any of your enemies.” Thorin shook his head, unable to tell them about his dream, and held up a hand as Dwalin opened his mouth.

“Enough. Perhaps it shouldn’t surprise me that I have nightmares when we go to face a dragon, but I would appreciate it if you didn’t mention this to the others.”

“Of course.” They left him alone, but Thorin imagined he saw doubt in their eyes. He could not blame them. He was meant to be their leader, and here he was having nightmares and worrying about things he couldn’t control. In the morning, he ended up sitting across from Belladonna at the breakfast table and noticed the bags under her eyes, and the lethargic way she picked at her food. “Miss Baggins, are you feeling well?” She looked how she felt and he wondered what kept her up at night, if it was her hasty decision to follow him or something more.

“I’m fine!” She jumped, her eyes widening as she stared at him. “Why?”

“We have another long day of travel today. Make sure you do not slow us.” Her forehead creased and her lips parted, clearly hurt, but she said nothing and dropped her head over her plate. Bofur, sitting to Belladonna’s right, shot Thorin a glance but said nothing. Balin, eyes not leaving his plate, smacked Thorin in the ribs, and despite his armor the king winced. Just because he was on edge was no reason to strike out at anyone, especially the hobbit who had helped them leave the Shire stronger than they had entered, and if she was nervous in a town of Men he could not blame her. Still, as the Company rode into the Wilds, Thorin felt none of the confidence he had expected a journey home might have inspired. He had a fractured Company, a Wizard who seemed to think he had a right to direct them, and at the center of it all, a burglar who inspired no faith. 


	3. Chapter 3

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> The Company makes it to the Wilds, and Thorin muses on the difference between hobbits and dwarves.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This chapter is short, but it ended before I realized and sometimes you can’t argue.

Thorin felt more confident as they found a defensible campsite that night after a very long day on the road. Everyone’s spirits seemed high as they dismounted, and even Belladonna shot Thorin a smile as she surveyed the cliff, her stance easier than it had been the first day on the pony. Without being asked, she fell in with Bombur, helping him unpack their provisions and Thorin watched the orderly camp fall into place with approval. He walked the perimeter with Dwalin, deciding where to  set watch over the small track they had used to access the shelf, and even Gandalf’s announcement he was going to leave and look ahead didn’t bother the king. Once everyone had settled, and Balin had taken first watch, Thorin lit his pipe and wondered if his nightmares had led him to project his own fears onto the Company. The two cooks were tasting the stew and nodding to the other, setting down the ladle and gathering the bowls to begin serving. Bombur clapped Belladonna on the shoulder, and she flinched, nearly dropping to a knee before recovering.

Thorin sighed, blowing a smoke ring out over the pines. He would have to remind the others that while she might be similar to a dwarf in height, she lacked their strength and fortitude. Yavanna had made them to her image; gentle gardeners who only worked the top layer of the earth, so unlike the children of her consort. He wondered sometimes at her thinking. Mahal had made the dwarves to withstand the worse threat of the Ages, and such care showed in every aspect of their bodies, how they grew into their full strength quickly and only grew harder with age. Perhaps Yavanna had been looking to the future of the world, for surety her flowers would always bloom, but she had given her children little protection to achieve that goal.

Bombur was apologizing, and Kíli brought Thorin supper, settling against the cliff nearby with his brother. They invited Belladonna to sit with them, praising her skill as a cook, and she whipped out a long stemmed pipe, taking the pipeweed that Fíli offered after a moment of hesitation. Thorin watched her blowing smoke rings and smiled, surprised. He had never seen a female of any race smoking, but it seemed to suit her, and she had passable skill at sending her smoke rings where she wanted to. He was not the only one to admire her unexpected talent; Fíli chased her smoke rings with his own and Bofur applauded from his seat on a stump some feet away. She flushed prettily, her curls falling in her face, and she had to cup the bowl in her hand as she giggled.  “You don’t find me strange?”

“Why should we?” Kíli glanced at her, confused, as he went over his arrows. “Is this another thing that hobbits don’t do?”

“Male hobbits do. I can’t do this anywhere but my own home, else I’d be scolded for being unladylike and someone might try and take my pipe. It was my father’s.” Thorin scowled down at his feet as Kíli expressed his amazement at such actions. Rollo’s words rose in his mind unbidden, with the added weight that Belladonna had some connection to the strange Tooks, and he felt himself teetering on the edge of some great secret. He was snapped back to reality when the laughter of the three younger members of the Company enveloped him. Belladonna tamped out her dottle, trying to hide her giggles behind her hand, shaking her head at Kíli’s joke. She waved off their offer of more pipeweed and went to her bedroll, set a small distance apart from the rest of them, against the cliff face and under the heavy boughs of a spruce. It was a good choice and Thorin had to revise his opinion of her again. She might appear the very definition of pampered, but she had an easy way about traveling that spoke to long experience.

Movement from the fire caught Thorin’s eye and he turned to see Bofur preparing two mugs of tea with interference from Bombur, who wasn’t trying to hide his amusement at his brother’s clumsiness with the tealeaves and strainer. Eventually all was made right and Thorin’s eyebrows climbed into his hairline as Bofur sauntered towards the hobbit, who was fussing with her pack. He shouldn’t be surprised; he knew several of the Company had been sharing blankets already, and the lass was comely despite her small stature. Thorin would admit, at least in the privacy of his own mind, that he had caught himself admiring the curve of her hips tonight and sternly reminded himself to be respectful. Bofur offered the mug and bowed shortly, his easy grin spreading wide as he made to take her free hand. Thorin sat bolt upright as a high pitched shriek of absolute shock rang out over the camp, and swung around, astonished such a small throat could produce such a piercing noise. The mug was broken into shards on the ground and tea covered hobbit and dwarf in equal measure. “ _What_ did you say?”

“I…um…” Bofur floundered. “My apologizes, miss Baggins. I assumed too much.” She shrank back.

“I don’t understand.” To Bofur’s credit, he didn’t laugh at her obvious inexperience and clear panic, and made no aggressive moves. Thorin knew several dwarves, especially of his Court, who would throw such a rejection back into the prospective partner’s face to salvage some pride, but Bofur was an upstanding dwarf and did his best to set things right.

“I simply wished to share in the pleasures of the body, miss Baggins, but I can see you weren’t expecting such an offer. I’m sorry, lass.”

“I’ve no experience with going to a male’s bed, master dwarf.” Indrawn breaths hissed around the camp and Bofur stepped back another foot, bowing once more. In that moment, Thorin wanted to beg her forgiveness, try and explain the offer had been made in good faith and no one had guessed she was a virgin, but the miner was doing a better job than his king would, and as Bofur retreated he left the hobbit shaking while she sank to the ground. The fear in Belladonna’s voice and the way she drew back from them all raised a suspision in Thorin’s mind, but he couldn’t put words around what he was feeling and leaned back, glad he was half hidden in the shadows as he watched her. He hadn’t taken much time to truly look at her and he was surprised to find that depsite her differences to his people she had a beauty of her own, her small nose and lips suiting the delicate curve of her face. She had long eyelashes and her eyes were expressive, large and unable to hide her thoughts. Right now she was pressed against the cliff face, arms crossed across her chest and hands resting on her shoulders, knees forming a protective barrier between her and the world. Thorin jerked his head away, shame heating his cheeks. How dare he admire her when she was clearly suffering? Balin whistled from the path and distracted everyone from their burglar. The Wizard had returned, then. He strode into camp, swinging his staff and humming under his breath, but he caught the mood of the camp and slowed. Gandalf glanced around at them all, eyes going to the shivering hobbit and a frown appearing as he walked over to her slowly.

“Child?”

“Gandalf.” She gasped in relief as he settled down beside her, but she didn’t uncurl and he didn’t touch her, simply leaning back and telling her of the path they were to take, how there was a small lake where they could take a few moments to wash. Dwalin sat by Bofur, nudging the smaller dwarf and saying something that brought a smile to both their faces. Thorin leaned back and finished his pipe, breathing deeply and hoping Belladonna would forgive them. He was about to go to his bedroll when a chilling howl rang out over the woods, echoing off the cliff face and confusing the origin. Close. Too close. He eased his axe loose and checked his vambrace, letting his fingers caress the hardened oak as he stood. “Was that a wolf?” Belladonna spun from Gandalf’s side, staring out into the darkness.

“No, that was a Warg.” Kíli smiled hesitantly at her and she took a few cautious steps forward. “Do you know of them?”

“No.”

“They are mounts for Orcs, our enemies. They can swoop out of nowhere and kill entire caravans in moments.”

“Silent and deadly.” Fíli nodded, face serious. Thorin scowled as he walked forward. He knew his nephews well enough to recognize they were teasing, trying in their own way to bring her into the group. He thought he had trained them better than to use someone’s fear, especially someone not used to their humor.

“You’d find nothing but…”

“Kíli!” Thorin snapped as Belladonna shrank back, eyes wide. “You think that’s funny? You think an Orc raid at night is something to tease our companion about?” Kili's face fell and he mumbled a response. 

“I'm sorry.”

“You know nothing of the world.” His glare encompassed both. Fíli, looking so like Frerin it hurt, glanced down at his boots but Kíli tried to argue, falling silent at an angry gesture from his King. Balin, relieved from his watch by his brother, stood nearby but was silent, watching as Thorin turned to the hobbit. “Miss Baggins, there is nothing to fear this night. We are safe. But Orcs and Wargs are real, not tales to frighten by the fire, and it is best that you know.”

“I have seen what wolves can do. If Wargs are worse I will be careful.” She finally met his eyes and Thorin nodded curtly before turning and going to stand at the edge of the cliff, heart aching. How had he come to this? He couldn’t keep anyone safe, for all that they had known of the dangers. He couldn’t even provide armor for his _shomakhîth_ , something every other king of Durin’s line had done without thought. He had forged his nephews’ weapons himself and trusted the strength of their hearts, but a sword could not turn an arrow fired from an Orc’s shortbow, or deflect a dagger’s thrust. Loyalty was scant protection against the dangers of the road, and still he wasn’t sure of Belladonna’s motives. Could not fall back on whatever strength she possessed, did not know the limits of her courage. And there was no time to measure her mettle before his life might depend on it.

Balin began to tell the hobbit why Thorin hated Orcs so, and Thorin did his best not to listen, but some of it leaked through. “The Pale Orc had sworn to destroy the line of Durin long ago, for he knew as long as they lived there was a chance they would reclaim Khazad-dûm. His claim to the halls of our ancestors was based on nothing but his willingness to live near Durin’s Bane, and the knowledge he was nothing but a squatter amid the finest work of dwarf hands must have eaten at his heart. When Thrór wandered too close he seized his chance and beheaded the King.” Belladonna gasped, a small wounded sound that cut Thorin deeply. He turned to see the same look on her face he had seen when she had listened to his lament for Erebor, her eyes shining in the firelight. Balin nodded. “When Thráin heard of the grave insult, he sent word to the other dwarf clans that are our allies, and they agreed to fight. We went to war for long years.”

“Did no one else join your cause? Don’t the elves and men have enough reason to hate them?” Balin hesitated and Thorin turned.

“It was insult to us alone. The elves did nothing when Khazad-dûm fell, they did nothing when Erebor fell, and the men never offered their strength.” He walked forward. “We are a race alone, Halfling. Even your kind only let us into the Shire after long negotiation.”

“We are not a race of warriors or heroes.” She dropped her head. “When one is small, one must be cautious of strangers until their intentions are known.” Thorin opened his mouth to argue, but his earlier thoughts stilled his tongue. She was not Mahal’s child, and he ought to respect the differences.

“As you say, miss Baggins.” And he knew, staring out into the darkness, that tonight his dreams would be dark.

  

_“Dís!” Thorin fell to his knees as he finally reached his siblings, chest heaving. His sister looked unmarked, but the eyes she turned to him seared his soul and he turned his gaze to the bundle at her feet. His breath caught in his throat and he felt a strangled sob cutting off the air to his lungs. Dís fell into his chest with a wail and Thorin held her tight, wishing he could shield her from such horrors and knowing she had already seen far more than her share. Frerin knelt opposite and reached out his hand for the fiery hair in disarray on the ground. His eyes burned, turning into coals that began to melt his skin away as his keen of sorrow flayed his brother’s heart. Thorin could only cling to Dís and try and hide her from the sight of her brother’s exposed skull screaming its anger to the sky._


	4. Chapter 4

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> The journey seems to be going well, but there's a ruined farmhouse near a good campsite, and Gandalf seems to be on edge.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Your lovely reviews, my dear readers, have made my world a brighter place. Thank you all so much.

“And that, lass, is the long and short of it.” Balin finished his tale with a broad smile and Thorin felt himself jerking in surprise as the cessation of his advisor’s voice. He must have been speaking for three hours! Combined with the pain at the base of his skull and the exhaustion spreading across his shoulders as a heavy weight, Thorin found himself wondering exactly how he had managed to remain upright on his pony into the afternoon. Blinking, Thorin focused on the figure of the Wizard leading them and decided that for today, he did not mind following another. He kept remembering the moment from his dreams when Frerin’s skin had melted away and cursing his unconscious mind, and his younger self for standing over his brother’s pyre with unblinking eyes. _He was a burned dwarf_. Thorin muffled his groan and adjusted his seat, wishing for some water to clear his mind and unwilling to stop even for a moment until they needed to. Every step forward was a step closer to Erebor and he could feel the Mountain, the weight of it on his chest, the hooks in his heart. None but Balin would understand, and Thorin would not raise painful memories if he did not have to.

“I see.” At least the hobbit sounded as stunned as Thorin felt. “Thank you, though I can’t recall my original question now.” Kíli chortled and Gandalf tried to muffle a snort as Balin protested. Thorin grinned; it was a complaint he himself had made when younger, and Balin ought to be used to such when he refused to stop talking after the first ten minutes of a conversation. “I have another one, thought. What was it you said last night? _Mingel nadad_?” Everyone fell silent and Balin cleared his throat.

“We can’t teach you our language, lass. Please don’t try and mimic it.” She flushed and looked down at her hands gripping her reins.

“I’m sorry, I just…”

“We cannot teach outsiders.” His face was stern and she nodded silently. An awkward silence descended, and Thorin glanced up as they reached the top of a hill, seeing a half ruined farmhouse and a good pasture for the ponies. He knew the long days had tired the mounts and decided turning up good pasture and a shelter, no matter how rudimentary, might cost them later on the road when neither could be found. Thorin was not surprised when Gandalf raised objections, for his horse was of fine stock and wasn’t carrying anything besides a rider.

“Gandalf, we need this time, and this is a safe place. Defensible.”

“Nothing that lives in this forest should be able to rip through the house like this. Let us push on a few more hours. I remember the farmer who lived here, and he would not have left this land for anything. There is something dark in these woods, and you should fear it.”

“No. Can you promise there is such good pasture a few more hours down the road? I will not risk it, and lose days.” Gandalf argued for several more minutes until he saw Glóin and Óin already had a fire going and the healer was picking through the overgrown garden, exclaiming over some herbs. The Wizard entreated Thorin once more to move on, and when met with rejection, left with a barb about stubborn dwarves. Thorin nodded decisively. Of course he was stubborn. Stubbornness had seen his people through many a war, else they would have been wiped out long ago. “Fíli, Kíli! See to the ponies. Make sure they get plenty of rest tonight.” His nephews bowed and were gone. Belladonna stared after Gandalf, her eyes wide, and she spun to Balin as she wrung her cloak.

“He can’t go!”

“He can and has, lass. Here, can you help Óin separate weed from herb? I think I saw him grab a nettle.” Balin gestured towards what must have been the expansive kitchen garden, and Thorin watched the tension bleed from her shoulders as she took in the mass of greenery.

“A nettle can be of great help at times, master Balin.” But she did as requested, and after some grumbling Óin allowed her to help, her clever fingers snapping stems and pushing aside what was not needed with efficiency as they talked about what to choose next, how they would dry them while on the road. Thorin turned and found Dwalin waiting patiently, arms crossed over his chest.

“You watch her too much. Let her find a place on her own, else travel will only get more difficult.”

“Let me see to the Company, Dwalin, in the manner I choose.” Dwalin’s face grew stern and Thorin put a hand on his friend’s elbow. “Apologizes. I dreamt of Frerin last night and Gandalf’s stubbornness is one more pebble on the slope.”

“At least you and he are a match in one thing.” Chuckling at the well-aimed insult, Thorin went to check on their riding gear and pushed aside his concerns. Already the rhythm of travel had created routines, and Thorin let the smell of sun-warmed saddle leather remind him of other trips, humming softly as he checked buckles and straps, paying special attention to the girths. As he reached for the hobbit’s saddle, he found the stirrups were still slightly too long and adjusted them, shaking his head. No wonder her seat had been so stiff. He finished with the saddles and was debating if he should check the bridles when someone cleared their throat. He glanced up to find Belladonna balancing three bowls in her hands, the steam rising from the stew and making his mouth water. She seemed more relaxed, though her eyes were still downcast, and once again he found himself tense in her presence. There was a wall between them, of both of their make, and it was growing more difficult to think of ways to reach across the invisible barrier.

He had set aside his coat and mail to move more freely and she stared at his tunic, forehead creased. Thorin put a hand to his neck and realized the key had slipped out, the golden chain shining in the firelight. He put a protective hand over his treasure and tucked it back close to his skin, then stood and walked closer. “Thank you for bringing me dinner.” He reached for the bowl balancing on top of the other two, and had to help save all three bowls as she snapped out of her reverie, startled by his movement. “Are those for the lads?”

“Yes.” Thorin blinked as he realized night had spread a dark blanket over the camp, and glanced back at the work he had finished. His mind felt clear, free from nightmares and the burdens of stress, and he tried to smile at her, though Thorin was aware it was tight and unnatural, and she did not return it, her small teeth worrying the corner of her mouth.

“Be careful.” She opened her mouth, then ducked her head and nodded as she scurried away towards the trees. Thorin rejoined the group around the fire, listening to Glóin and Dori sing as he settled against a rock. Without Gandalf and Belladonna, the camp felt peaceful, and he let their story about Mahal arguing with Durin in the Halls of Mandos carry him away for a moment. He noticed with a start that Bofur and Dwalin had slipped away and thought he could hear laughter in the darkness. Well. He had not thought the two would find much in common but on a journey like this, at least the stratification of the Court had been set aside. He drummed his fingers along his thighs, wishing he could join in the music, and decided later he would be digging out his small harp, for all that it was buried in his pack. Dori’s voice rose above Glóin’s to give Durin’s words more weight and Thorin watched Nori shiver as he stared into the fire, and Balin’s eyes looked suspiciously damp.

The song was winding down, the final stanza creating a resonance between the two singer’s voices, when Fíli burst from the trees. Hands were on weapons before the prince gasped out that trolls had taken the ponies, and Fíli explained the rest as the dwarves made their way into the trees. The burglar had been caught while trying to free them, and Kíli was waiting to provide distraction should they not arrive in time. Thorin led the charge, knowing that Kíli would not wait for anyone if he saw someone in danger. Thorin arrived in time to see Belladonna flying through the air and landing on his younger nephew, and leapt out over their prone forms to protect them.

The Company fought as one, and Thorin caught glimpses of Belladonna freeing the ponies, part of him astonished she had not vanished the moment the dwarves had appeared, the rest of him wondering why she did not flee now that the main objective was complete. For the trolls had seen her as well, and she turned in time to see one of them bellowing in rage and charging at her. “Put up your sword, Halfling!” Thorin dodged a heavy fist, but his warning came too late for her. She was scooped up and held by her arms and legs, her face twisted in fear as she closed her eyes, jaw clenched. She did not struggle, and Thorin heard a seductive whisper in his mind that he owed her nothing. But he froze as her green eyes snapped open, meeting his as the trolls demanded his surrender for her life. And he heard the distant screams of his sister as he met Belladonna’s terrified gaze, and knew he could never abandon her.

The hobbit had been moved by the loss of his home, enough to follow him into danger. He owed her for the tears she had shed for the dwarves long dead, for trusting him when he had said she would be safe. With a growl of anger, Thorin thrust his sword into the ground, hearing the cries of dismay as sacks appeared from the stinking heap near the fire and the Company was trussed. By chance, he was tossed down close to Belladonna and could hear her labored breaths, saw how she shook and cried as several of the dwarves were placed on a monstrous spit. And just as he was about to tell her he was sorry, he watched her get to her knees, her bound hands making every move difficult, and hop to her feet. “Now, listen here!” And she proceeded to tell the monsters how to cook flesh!

Kíli howled his rage but Thorin froze as he watched the argument escalate, the trolls ignoring their captives to defend their positions. Her subtle instigation and blatant lies were buying them time. Thorin kicked Kíli as best he could and nodded to Belladonna as she glanced back, her lips pressed in a thin line, eyes so wide they appeared to take up half her face. She gave him a quick nod and turned back to their captors, starting another row about butchering technique that had Thorin’s stomach in knots. Finally one of the trolls seemed suspicious and leaned closer to her, frowning. “Little burrahobbit, why do you know so much about eating dwarf?”

“Why do you think you’ve never heard of my people when we live nearby? We’re quite used to dealing with all kinds of beings this way. But I had to let this lot live because they’re sick. Not worth anyone’s time.” She hopped closer, and Thorin held his breath. The trolls hesitated again, then another argument started. Her voice was breathier than it had been as she threw out another suggestion designed to create conflict, and he recognized her stillness for the terror it was. Suddenly Bombur was in the air, held aloft and lowered towards a gaping maw. Belladonna fell on her knees but raised her voice. “Not that one! He’s the worst of the lot! He’ll have you all dead!” Thorin let out a soft breath, afraid to move and remind the trolls they had an audience. She continued to babble until Bombur was out of immediate danger, going on about how they were making a terrible mistake. Thorin noticed a shadow in the woods with a familiar outline and whispered as softly as he could,

“Gandalf is here.” Belladonna’s breath hitched and she struggled to her feet once more, asking what herbs they used in their stew. The question seemed to confuse them, and one troll started forward with a growl that she looked to be the right size for a bite when a loud voice boomed over them all.

“The dawn take you!” Gandalf stood above the clearing, backlit by the sun, and lowered his staff to the huge boulder beneath his feet. Thorin shuddered as the granite was cracked in two. The sunlight streamed into the clearing, and as their erstwhile captors screamed in their death throes, freezing to immutable stone, Gandalf stared down at them, smiling at Belladonna who had fallen to her knees once more. She glanced over her shoulder at Thorin, and he felt a true smile on his face as he nodded to her in respect. She might have been the cause of their capture and near death, but she had shown her cleverness in the face of danger and he knew without her they might have ended up dead anyway. The Wizard hurried over to release the hobbit and she fell into his arms with a sob. Lifting her gently, Gandalf held her shaking form easily as he cut Thorin free with one hand and left the king to free everyone else as he sat down to let Belladonna weep into his chest. “You did very well, child. Shh. I know.” Thorin cut Kíli and Fíli loose and they ran over to the spit, stopping the log from turning and kicking dirt over the flames, using whatever came to hand including the disgusting cauldron of stew until they could safely cut everyone down one by one, as Thorin untied everyone else on the ground. Most sat around groaning, but Bofur hobbled over to the Wizard.

“Miss Baggins? Thank you.” She peeked up at him and nodded wordlessly, her face a mess and hair snarled. She suddenly pushed away from Gandalf and pressed herself to a nearby tree.

“I just need a few moments, please.” Gandalf rose immediately and went to help the princes with the spit, and Thorin had Óin check on everyone, treating the abrasions from the ropes and burns from the fire. The Wizard peered around at the clearing. He had not said anything about Thorin’s decision to stay so close to a troll den, but the dwarf was tensed for the accusation. Fíli and Kíli arrived in the clearing, bearing some of the packs to allow everyone to change, and Fíli put Belladonna’s pack near her quietly. Thorin waved them over, crossing his arms over his chest to stop himself from smacking them both. He had had some time to consider the events of the evening, and he was realizing his assignation of blame to Belladonna had been wrong.

“How under Eru’s blessed eye did the trolls get the ponies in the first place, lads?” Fíli flinched but met Thorin’s gaze steadily, and held out his hands to show he was hiding nothing.

“We were talking. Just about home, and m…those we left behind.” Kíli struggled to emulate his brother and Thorin sighed, knowing that his younger nephew had been missing Dís and Fíli was covering for his brother. He would not let them off the hook so easily this time.

“And how did Belladonna come to be in their camp with no weapon?” He could not assign them total responsibility for that oversight; he had never met someone who did not even carry a dagger, but he knew hobbits had little love of weapons and should have told her the first night she asked after their travels she needed one.

“Well, she’s small and sneaky and we didn’t ask if she had anything.” Fíli flushed but his gaze held steady. “Kíli or I would have been spotted right away. She wasn’t caught until she tried to grab one of the troll’s knives to cut the enclosure open, anyway. It might have worked.”

“We nearly died. Not even a month from the Blue Mountains! You should have come back to me and alerted me before sending her into danger.” Thorin glanced over his shoulder and saw everyone was moving, and Dwalin was bringing more packs from the ruined farmhouse. Good. They needed small comforts right now. “I will make sure she is armed. You two get the middle watch for the next week at least, and not together. I expect the other to do the cleaning after we eat, and do whatever chores Dwalin and I can think of. And you will apologize to everyone. Is that clear?”

“Yes, Majesty.” Fíli bowed and Kíli echoed him, both of their faces set. Good. Let them think of him as King and Lord before Uncle, for a time. To their credit, they relieved Dwalin of his burden and continued on with their task. Thorin turned to see Gandalf peering around at the woods.

“They could not have moved in daylight.”

“You think their cave is nearby?”

“It must be. And their treasure.” Everyone’s head swiveled around and Thorin felt his curiosity stir. But he had something else to do before he could go searching. “Come.” Most followed the Wizard eagerly, already wondering what they might find. Belladonna turned, her hair brushed and clumsily braided into a long plait she tied off with a strip of rawhide from her pack. Thorin approved of the style; it was a common travel braid and used most often by traveling merchants. But the rough tie needed to be fixed. He could perhaps find something in the troll cave. He cleared his throat and she glanced up at him, her cheeks pinking.

“I’m very sorry, Thorin. You…”

“Miss Baggins. Belladonna. You must not apologize. Did my nephews happen to mention I might punish them if they lost the ponies?” She nodded. “Is that why you agreed to face the trolls with no weapon?”

“They just seem so…sad.” She sighed, wincing slightly. “Afraid to disappoint you. I’ve never used a sword in my entire life.”

“I’m afraid you might have to before this journey ends. Please come with me so we’re not separated from the group any longer.” Thorin stepped closer, intending to offer his arm, but she stepped back and he waited a moment before turning. He had to glance back twice to be sure she was following him, her bare feet soundless even on the pine needles.

Not surprisingly, she refused to enter the cave, but Thorin could see the glint of steel and was helpless to resist clambering down the slope, arm over his nose. He would live the rest of his life in Bree gladly to never smell anything so awful again, but the swords at the back of the cave held his gaze over the paltry amount of treasure strewn about the floor that currently held everyone else’s attention. Gandalf saw what Thorin held and walked over, bringing his torch close. That the beautiful blade was of elvish make was disappointing, and Thorin would admit to a small amount of jealousy as he hefted it. It felt good in his hand, more natural than his axe, and decided he could not leave it to molder or fall into the hands of one who would not admire the craftsmanship. Ignoring Gandalf’s smug smile, Thorin turned to find everyone else was satisfied with their take, and escaped the fetid air eagerly. On the way out, his boot kicked something, and he stooped to find a small dagger under leaf mold. It was very small, but had the same markings as his new sword. Pleased he could fulfill a promise made, Thorin climbed back into the light and found her waiting. “Belladonna, please take this.” She stared at it in shock, reaching out hesitantly.

“I can’t promise I’ll use it.”

“You do not have to. But we will all feel better knowing you have it, and sometimes the appearance of strength is better than nothing at all.” She accepted the hilt and slipped away to gather her gear. Thorin turned to find Gandalf looking at him strangely.

“That was a kind deed, Thorin.”

“She risked herself to save us. I still don’t understand why you insisted on her, Gandalf, but she has done well.” And then the shouting began. 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Mingel nadad - sleep well, brother
> 
> This translation I'm not so sure of but I couldn't come up with anything better.


	5. Chapter 5

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Thorin learns something of Belladonna's past, and contends with some elves.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thank you all, lovely readers, for your continued support. I hope you enjoy my version of Rivendell.

_Thorin stood in the rough throne room, staring up at his father, who spoke words so loud rocks fell to the floor, millions of fragments spreading out in silent explosions. “Hunt them down.” Thorin and Frerin shouldered their axes and turned to run through a crowd of shadows with eyes that glittered like gold in a crucible, mouths opened to show teeth of diamonds, all hissing their demands of revenge. Dís in her coat of fur, face cold, threw the gates open and demanded they return with her sons, and Thorin didn’t wonder that she seemed older than he as he saluted and followed Frerin into the night. They ran across hills, over clouds and around meadows where deer danced. Frerin’s face never moved as he asked Thorin to lead the way into a dank tunnel, and Thorin obeyed, brushing though roots and bones, the reek enough to coat the inside of his nose with a putrid stink he would never be rid of. He raised his sword, the curved blade shining in the candlelight of the elves, and saw a dark group of dwarves huddled around a fire. As he bellowed a challenge and leapt into battle, Frerin disappeared in a breath of smoke and the walls fell, burying Thorin in darkness._

Thorin walked out from the courtyard where the rest of the dwarves lay sleeping, finding a bench under a tree to support his trembling legs. This time there was no question of where the dream had come from. He hadn’t slept more than an hour in two days, he had faced down Wargs and Orcs and been rescued by two mad Wizards and elves. It was a wonder he wasn’t ripping his hair out by the handful. And to cap it all off, his burglar had been taken. He leaned against the smooth bark behind him and let out a deep sigh. In all his planning, arriving in Rivendell under duress had never once been entertained, and went to show that his father’s admonitions not to plan might have some truth to them. Not that it had done Thráin any good, at his end.

Thorin cursed and rose, walking the strangely open corridors, lost in his thoughts. Dwalin would be furious when he found Thorin had exposed himself like this, but being trapped with his thoughts was worse. So when he rounded the corner and saw a small elf child on the balcony overlooking one of the many waterfalls of the valley, Thorin hesitated instead of turning. She turned, her white shift flaring, and Thorin found himself gazing into Belladonna’s eyes. Both froze, until she took a shallow breath, her hand going to her ribs and the moment passed. “I cannot sleep in the light of the moon. I miss being underground.”

“I understand.” Thorin walked closer. “They have tended to you honorably?”

“Of course.” She blinked her eyes, puzzlement titling her head to the side. “Lord Elrond was a friend of my mother’s, from her youth.”

“He did not know she had passed?”

“It was only ten years ago. The elves…well, for them, ten years is a blink to you or I, and mother understood.” She turned, unbound curls falling into her face. “I grew up on stories of Rivendell, but it is overwhelming to be somewhere my mother spoke of so fondly. She did not do it justice.” Thorin’s hands tightened on the railing.

“Óin is as fine a healer at any elf. Why did you not let us know you were hurt?”

“When should have I raised the issue? While we were crouching behind boulders, or running for our lives?” She turned to go and Thorin reached without thought, trapping her slender wrist in his fingers. Soft skin leapt with her heartbeat, her warmth surprising. He tightened his grip as she froze, and he released her immediately, her shocked glance more than enough to castigate him for touching her without permission. If she were a dwarf, he would have deserved whatever she decided to retaliate with, but Belladonna just pushed herself against the wall, eyes wary. Thorin stepped back from her, keeping his voice low.

“You could have told us in the tunnel.”

“We weren’t safe yet. I did not mean to insult you, but by the time the pain had become overwhelming we were already here.” Thorin felt his fists clenching and took a deep breath. When they had realized the elves on their horses were approaching, he had grabbed her without thinking, pulling her into the safety of the group, when she had cried out and dropped to the ground, diffusing the tension immediately as both groups worried for her safety. Her ribs had been severely bruised by the trolls and Lord Elrond had carried her away after recognizing her. Thinking back to her house, and the portraits of her parents, Thorin realized that she resembled her mother enough to confuse the elves to her identity for a time. She turned towards the moon, closing her eyes briefly. “Did they feed you?”

“Lettuce and flowers. Bifur was the only one sated tonight.” Her mouth dropped open and she glanced down the hall furtively.

“My mother told me where the kitchen is. Did you have to eat some of your rations?”

“We did.” Thorin cocked his head to the side, watching the young Belladonna from her portrait appear, the worry and fear falling from her and the sparkle returned to her eyes. She looked down at her shift and suddenly flushed.

“If you would give me a moment to fetch something a little heavier, I will show you where the food is.”

“Why?” She glanced back at him in surprise.

“Because.” She slipped into a room down the hall and Thorin rubbed his forehead, trying to squeeze the pain away. When he had realized elves battled the Orcs above them as they hid, and that despite everything he had tried Gandalf had led them into Rivendell with no escape, Thorin had nearly taken his sword to the Wizard, held back by the thinnest thread of self control and the knowledge no matter his skill with a blade, the Wizard would thwart his attack. His mind was still racing, trying to think of who might have betrayed his presence on the road. Dain was a cousin, had fought at Azanulbizar, had lost his father to the Pale Orc. There was no conceivable way, even if a lust for rule of all of Durin’s Folk had existed, that Dain would ever treat with any of Sauron’s foul creations.

Perhaps one of the nobles who had tried to dissuade him from leaving was responsible, knowing if Thorin sat on his grandfather’s throne he would shift the balance of power they had enjoyed for nearly a century and a half. Suddenly a name rose unbidden to the top of his mind. Narvi, son of Nar, named for a great smith of Khazad-dûm. Nar had been Thrór’s last companion and had returned with news of Thrór’s death at Azog’s hands. Despite willingly choosing exile over a home in the Iron Hills where his family had property and influence, Narvi had not followed his father’s example of unquestioned loyalty to the line of Durin. He had refused to help Thorin with any expenses, and had dissuaded many other lords from helping. Thorin’s breathed hissed out between his teeth and he raised his head to find Belladonna, her coat over her shift, making her way back to him. She walked slowly, clearly still in pain, but the smile she gave him brought an answering one to his face. “Lead on, Belladonna.”

 

The great kitchens were silent and dark, but Belladonna walked in confidently, trailed by a thoroughly lost dwarf. If he had wandered the halls for hours he never would have found his way to the lower levels. Thorin watched her take stock of the pantries, and approved of the choices she was making. He glanced around and found a basket for her pilfered goods, setting it on the floor and going back to the door to keep an eye on the corridor. She appeared at his side in a few minutes, grinning openly. There was no meat that he could see, but the bread, butter, cheese and small jars of preserves would be a good breakfast no matter what the elves saw fit to give them. “Is this what Gandalf meant?”

“What?”

“That you were a great thief as a girl.” She flushed as he took the heavy basket from her, her hands awkward at her side as she glided beside him.

“I was known to purloin the occasional apple or mushroom, and perhaps the odd pie cooling on a windowsill.” Thorin snorted softly, then noticed her sword was missing. Her regard for the elves rankled, but an accusing voice in his ear whispered that she had more reason to trust the elves than the dwarves. “This is not so different, I think. My mother always spoke of the generosity of the elves. Why would they begrudge a basket of food that you would enjoy, or not feed you things you might like?”

“Because relationships between dwarves and elves differ from those of hobbits and elves. I imagine the Shire has never known war?”

“I would not say that.” Thorin jerked in surprise at the sudden steel in her voice. “We have faced goblins and wolves and many other threats. You are not the only ones who have faced loss, your Majesty.” She turned and rushed away on silent feet, and Thorin felt his face flush and tighten as she disappeared. He glanced down at the basket and saw a jar of honey, recalling how Dori had sighed over their tea with nothing to sweeten it, and cursed himself. Just when they had made a fragile connection, it was shattered. This was growing intolerable. She had proved helpful, but she was a source of constant conflict. The bonds Thorin had spent long years forging with the rest of the Company meant nothing if the last link was one of gossamer thread. Perhaps she could be persuaded to stay here in Rivendell until someone could take her home. Thorin went back to his bedroll and stared out at the waterfalls until the others began to stir and he could present them Belladonna’s gift.

Dori was rhapsodic over the honey, and boiled water for tea while chatting to Glóin and Óin about the different flavors bees could infuse their sweet syrup with. Thorin pulled his lap harp out and plucked a simply melody, knowing none would dare approach while he played. A new tune spoke to his fingers, one that reminded him of Frerin and his love of exploration, the notes cascading as Thorin remembered mountains and caves, passes and valleys, forests and plains. They had seen far more of Middle Earth than they had ever meant to. Fíli and Kíli, still in disgrace, served everyone breakfast and were sent with a pointed glare from Dwalin to take inventory of their severely reduced gear. All the ponies had been lost, and Thorin knew they would have to beg for help from the elves of Rivendell before they could face the road with confidence. The harp became bitter, strings nearly snapping, and Thorin set it aside as Kíli offered him a plate of bread spread with a generous helping of butter and honey, the raspberry preserves off to the side. There was something about the honey that tickled an old memory at the back of his mind, but Thorin focused on eating and preparing speeches for Lord Elrond, asking for aid while maintaining some semblance of dignity.

 

Belladonna did not reappear until supper. The dwarves had eaten all she had taken for them, and her arrival was greeted with friendly cries from most of the Company. Thorin watched her from his seat at the head of the table, glad that her movements seemed less stiff than they had last night as she sat next to Bofur with a small groan. Once the map was read, they would be able to leave with no delay. “How are you faring, Bella?” Thorin glanced up to see Gandalf walking towards them. Who was Bella? Belladonna glanced up and smiled.

“Doing better, thank you.”

“Lass?” Bofur looked horrified. “Did…he just…your _name_?” The entire table was frozen, forks raised halfway to mouths hanging open, food falling to the table. The Wizard might as well have cut her hair or spit in her face! Thorin saw the same horror he felt reflected everywhere as a foreboding hush swept over their conversations. Belladonna’s smile faded as she became the center of attention.

“What?” She looked utterly bewildered. “Is there something wrong with my name now?”

“Gandalf, did you just expose her true name to us?” Dori jumped to his feet, gesturing wildly. “How could you!” Thorin stayed silent, watching her shrink back from those who were arguing fiercely with Gandalf, who was trying to get a word in edgewise and failing. She looked miserable and scared, and Thorin silenced them all with a shouted command. Gandalf shot Thorin a glance and turned back the Company, pulling out his pipe as he explained.

“It’s a girlhood name, to keep her and her mother from being confused with the other. It’s no secret, and I believe she prefers it to her longer name. Hobbits have no secret language to guard from outsiders, and they are free with their fond nicknames for each other.” Thorin watched Belladonna…Bella, and the look she was giving her feet made him suspect that Gandalf was either lying or had been lied to. All creatures had their own secret tongue from their creators. Maybe the hobbits were better at hiding their secrets than even the dwarves. She coughed and straightened her shoulders as best she could before raising her eyes.

“It’s true, I do prefer Bella among my friends. You may all feel free to use whichever name you prefer.”

“Of course, Bella.” Bofur handed her a bowl of salad with an elaborate flourish. “And thank you for trusting us with it.” Gandalf left to dine with the elves and Thorin glanced up at the darkening sky. Tonight, Lord Elrond had promised to read the moon runes on his grandfather’s map. Perhaps by the time the sun rose over the valley, he could be climbing to meet it. Thorin paused by Bella’s chair as Fíli and Kíli began to clear the table, taking a deep breath.

“Halfling, if you would like to accompany us to visit with Elrond and see the map be read I would be glad of your company.” Bofur froze, eyes flickering to his king, but Thorin made a quick sign saying he was extending the hand of friendship only and the miner relaxed. Balin smiled as he waited by the door and Bella nodded after a long moment.

“I would be honored, Thorin.” The king offered his hand but she trembled as he came closer, so he dropped his arm to his side as she gingerly got to her feet, her left arm crossing her chest to cradle her ribs on the right for a moment. She followed them through courtyards and across bridges until they reached the cave Elrond had described, and they found Gandalf and Elrond waiting. Thorin stood by the rough boulder of quartz, sneering at the choice. Elves truly knew nothing of optics if they chose something with so many impurities. In Erebor they had once had columns of the purest quartz that reflected the light from their lanterns into the grottos, and crystals that could magnify the smallest of gemstones for the master jewelers. Bella stood beside him, gazing around in wonderment. He wondered what she would think of the green marble throne room, and then wondered if any of the fine walkways or arches still stood. His hand rose to the chain around his neck, his fingers running along the miniscule links. Something of the work of his forefather’s hands must still stand, and she would see why the work of the elves with stone and crystal was something to pity. “May I see the map?” He hesitated, but she had been through enough the past three days to earn this small gesture of trust. She unrolled it carefully, examining the runes and running her small fingers over the figure of the dragon. Balin seemed thoughtful as he watched her, but said nothing against her careful handling of their treasure. Thorin cleared his throat and dropped his voice.

“The River Running starts underneath the Mountain itself and comes out near the Front Gate. We always had the coldest, purest water to quench our blades and running water in every home.” Her eyes went wide, staring at him silently. She smelled of flowers and pipeweed, this close, and Thorin shifted so he could touch the drawing of Dale, drawing her attention. “It was half a day’s walk to Dale, but there were carts for those who did not wish to walk. The gold flowed out from our gates and everything we needed was at hand.”

“I want to see it.” She breathed softly, fingers running down the road. “I can create pictures in my mind from what Balin has told me, but I’m sure I have the scale wrong.”

“I’m not sure I remember how big everything is.” Elrond stepped closer to the quartz table and smiled at Bella fondly, then transferred his gaze to Thorin. Thorin felt his shoulders tense and he stepped away from the hobbit. Their earlier meeting had been humiliating, but the Company had already received the supplies they so desperately needed. Thorin would send payment, despite Elrond’s insistence it was not necessary, and Thorin would regain some pride. He was so tired of begging door to door. “Is the moon about to rise?”

“Close enough. May I see the map?” Thorin watched Bella hand it over happily, and Elrond touched her cheek before holding the parchment up against the sky before centering it on the flat surface in front of him. Balin tensed, but the elf was gentle with the old paper as the moon broke over the lip of the valley. The quartz preformed adequately, magnifying the cold light and Thorin watched as the old runes appeared and Elrond translated. Bella’s hands were clasped in front of her face, her wonder evident.

“How utterly brilliant.” Her whisper only reached Thorin, but her praise for his people brought a smile to his face. The mention of Durin’s Day snapped his attention back to his map, and his heart sank. Balin was similarly dismayed. They shared a glance, forgetting they had an audience for a moment.

“It draws close. Glóin said it would be early this year.”

“We have little time to spare, then.” Thorin’s mind raced over the pass, and through Mirkwood. Such miles to cross! He heard an indrawn breath from above him and cursed internally as he turned to confront Elrond.

“You plan to confront Smaug, then? Gandalf, I can not approve of this plan.”

“I was unaware the affairs of my kingdom were any concern of yours!” Thorin growled. “We are not your vassals, Lord Elrond.”

“If you unleash him on the world it is very much my concern, Thorin. I have labored for longer than you could fathom to protect this land, as my father did before me.”

“My people suffer. This is our last chance.” Suddenly Bella reached forward, taking the map from where it lay unprotected, and rolling it deftly. Both Elrond and Thorin gaped at her, but she handed Thorin her precious bundle with a quick smile, stepping back from the confrontation. Elrond sighed.

“Belladonna, that was not necessary.”

“Perhaps not, but it is done.” She smiled prettily, but she seemed to shrink back from the elf. “I will leave you all to discuss this, but I’m very tired.” Elrond offered to escort her back to her room, shooting Gandalf a deep frown as he left. The Wizard let out his breath and shook his head.

“While she has him distracted, go and prepare everyone, Thorin. I will send you a signal, and then you must escape the valley before Elrond realizes you are gone.”

“What will the signal be?”

“It will be unmistakable.” Thorin nodded curtly. He had a quest to save, and little time to do so; Wizard or no, Gandalf was their best hope, and he would not waste time arguing.

 

Nori was waiting at the entrance to the courtyard, cleaning his nails with a knife. “Three elves have been by, trying to take some of our gear to clean or fix it. We’ve managed to hold them off but there’s something going on.”

“Yes.” Thorin gathered everyone and explained the situation. Nori remained on guard, joined by Bifur, who seemed to make the elves nervous. As night fell, Thorin decided he had to risk their host's hostility towards his venture to find Bella. Dwalin objected loudly and at great length, but Thorin was the only one who knew where her room was, and more than one dwarf moving would draw attention. Thorin touched his hand to the gold chain and overrode all objections. As he walked away, hand on the sword that had slain Gothmog, Thorin saw a bustle of activity near the gates and sped his steps, taking advantage of the distraction. He knocked on her door and heard her voice answer, the heavy oak opening a moment later. She was dressed for travel, her pack on her back and her walking stick in her hand.

“Gandalf told me. Is it time?”

“Close enough.”

“Thank you for coming to get me. I was just getting ready to leave but I was afraid I might be seen.”

“Someone has arrived, so we have a few moments.” She scampered after him, trying to match his long strides, panting by the time they reached the courtyard. Balin had discovered a little used path that led towards the pass they were to take, and now they simply had to trust to Gandalf. Bella sat by Bombur and Bofur, joined by Dwalin after a moment, the red haired cook sharing a story about his family. Suddenly a large moth fluttered down to Thorin’s arm, and even as he drew his hand back, he saw the small blue bead on one of the feelers being waved at his face and stood. A strange way to send a sign, but it was enough.

“Balin, lead us on.” The old dwarf nodded and as they began their journey, Thorin’s tension melted away as he felt the bones of the earth under his feet. Bella stepped from the group as they made it to the top of the first hill, glancing back. “Miss Baggins, keep up!” She hesitated then turned, and Thorin swung into the lead. Now let the elves try and stop him; he would lead them a merry chase among the mountains that had once sheltered his kind, and he would see his home once again.


	6. Chapter 6

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Crossing the Misty Mountains allows the Company time to get to know their burglar. But a stormy night leads to trouble for everyone.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Wonderful lovely readers, this is not a fun chapter. You all know what's coming, but happy times are around the corner.

The first few days after the Company had escaped Rivendell were uneventful, if tiring. Thorin’s nightmares did not return, and he managed to have a few conversations with Bella that didn’t end with one of them angry. They learned something of the other, and Thorin was prepared to admit she knew more of the wider world than he had thought possible, and she had a clever way about her words he found intriguing. Bella's stories of the Shire’s fights against goblins and wolves entranced the entire Company, and Thorin wondered if Gandalf had known her ancestor who had led a charge against an army of the foul creatures. She never mentioned other family, however, and was quiet when the other dwarves shared tales around the fire the first night, though she laughed readily enough at Nori's tall tales of the beauties he had had to avoid, lest he capture their hearts without meaning to. Thorin found his own smile difficult to hide at Dori's vocal displeasure and Bofur's outrageous wink that set Dwalin flushing. Being in the mountains felt good, and even Bella seemed to perk up as they left the dark valleys behind to meet the sun.

She finally answered Balin's questions about herself the next morning, and Thorin began to enjoy listening to her soft voice telling the older dwarf of her home, and marveled at her burning curiosity about the dwarves. Balin found Bella an apt pupil, and tried his best to bring the Princes and Ori into the lessons. “Balin, I heard this story on my mother’s knee and could recite it backwards.” Fíli grumbled as he marched behind Thorin, who reached back without looking and batted his nephew on the shoulder. Balin’s voice mixed disapproval with a fond sternness Thorin had never been able to master with his nephews as the councilor corrected the prince.

“Miss Baggins has not, and the story of Durin waking alone is an important one. Why is that, Ori?”

“Because we don’t know what actually happened, though we have some clues. And in all his incarnations that have followed, Durin had never said what transpired there. All we know is that he left Gundabad, where he was created with the others before they slept, and made his way to Khazad-dûm.” Ori clung to his cardigan and glanced down at his shoes, but Bella turned her attention to the small dwarf and listened intently. He glanced up at her and straightened his shoulders. “What we do know is that he received instructions from Mahal on how to prepare us for the coming of Morgoth, and supposedly the tablet they used to write the first contract is still in Gundabad in a hidden cavern.” Balin nodded proudly and Thorin watched Nori and Dori exchange smiles. It was good to see the history of his people remained undiminished, and Ori was a fine student.

“Isn’t it far north of here?” Bella pulled herself around a rock and tossed her braid over her shoulder. Thorin had yet to find her a better tie for the single plait, but it was good for his concentration to see her curls bound. Balin nodded.

“Mount Gundabad is infested with Orcs. Perhaps one day we’ll have the strength to reclaim another kingdom, but we have more pressing matters.” Bella frowned down at her feet.

“How many have been lost?”

“Five.” Her eyes widened in surprise and Thorin turned his concentration back to the trail. He did not need to listen to the lesson any longer, but he appreciated her interest in their history. She would see why Erebor mattered, and perhaps she would fight all the harder. Their burglar was still a stranger, but little by little, Thorin felt his trust for her growing.

Her actions in Rivendell had proved her loyalty, and her deft retrieval of the map had been impressive. There was no pursuit, but Thorin dared not stop to wait for the Wizard. He wished he had known they were racing against the turning of the seasons before he had left the Blue Mountains, but now with a firm deadline in place, he drove the Company hard, and everyone collapsed on the trail when he called a halt, three nights after their escape. Balin gave Thorin a stern look as he sank to the ground next to Bella, who was leaning her head into her stick, breathing in deep gasps. But after a few minutes, she was the first to her feet, her green eyes assessing the narrow camp, and as she began to look for firewood, Thorin jerked his head at Kíli, who leaned his head back against the boulder he was slumped into before climbing to his feet and joining the hobbit in her self appointed task. Fíli glanced at Thorin and went to Bombur, asking for the food so he could start cooking. Dwalin smirked as he watched them work and Thorin decided they had worked off their debt to the Company. Bella brought him the soup and bread Bombur had made and Thorin thanked her as she turned. She half bobbed a curtsy before stopping and laughing, shaking her head. “How do dwarves respond?”

“If you feel the need, a nod is sufficient.” He smiled as she nodded deeply, her braid swinging over her shoulder. “And I appreciate everything you’re doing for us.” She bit her lip, face flushing, and as she scurried over to sit and eat with Bofur, Thorin saw she didn’t lean away as Kíli offered some pipeweed, and reached for his harp with a smile. Tonight, he did not fear to sleep.

 

The next day, everyone woke slowly and Thorin ignored their complaining as he watched the thunderheads build over the mountains. They were getting high enough that any storm would be a serious threat, and he almost decided they needed to wait. But Durin’s Day grew closer. He tightened the straps on his pack and glanced at Balin. “Tell everyone to have their cloaks ready.” Balin glanced at the clouds but said nothing. And Thorin was to wonder why when clouds covered the sun before noon, and by night the storm raged too hard to even consider calling a stop without shelter. Thorin grabbed Fíli’s elbow. “Take your brother and…” Fíli’s head swung around to face the valley a moment before Thorin heard the sound of rock grinding, and then nightmares stepped into the living world all around them.

As the stone giants fought overhead and the rain blinded them to a safe path, Thorin found his fist clenched around the golden chain as he groped forward a step at a time. He was in the middle of the group, doing his best to keep an eye on everyone, Fíli ahead of him and Kíli behind. He froze as a boulder crashed into the mountain above them, pressing his back to the rock as the debris barely missed the group. Thorin had heard the legends on his grandfather’s knee, had passed them onto his nephews when their father could not. Every dwarf said to move was to attract attention, but Thorin doubted anyone had seen such an event for an Age. He and Fíli glanced at the other, reading the other’s mind, when a sickening crack rang in their ears. Fíli and those in front of him, including a small hobbit who Thorin would not see hurt, flew away into the night as a stone giant materialized from the mountain. The king bellowed without thinking, racing after them as the stone giant reeled through the air and was taken out by another of its kind. Thorin heard a scream rip from Kíli’s throat as the behemoth stumbled and fell, its unwilling passengers disappearing in a cloud of debris. Thorin was dimly aware of shouting as he leapt over boulders and rounded the corner, gasping in relief as he saw the dwarves safe.

But he did not catch sight of the honey brown curls he had been looking for and twisted his head, limbs numbing. “Bella!” At his frenzied cry, Kíli turned and peered over the edge, hand over his eyes to protect them from the rain. “Uncle! She’s here!” Thorin raced over, falling to his knees and gripping the rocks. And there she was, clinging to an outcrop with both hands, feet dangling over the abyss. Her small face shone amid the darkness, eyes wide and terrified. She was completely silent, just as she had been while held by the trolls, and Thorin reacted without thinking, swinging himself around and clinging to the path with his fingertips, reaching down to grab her shoulder, swinging her light body closer to his.

A whimper, the first sound Bella had made, sounded in his ear and Thorin winced as he heaved her onto the narrow shelf, trying to scramble after her as Bofur helped the shaking hobbit to safety. But the rocks had been damaged by the thunder battle and Thorin’s handhold broke off with a sickening crunch. His world slowed as he grasped ineffectually with his other hand at the slick rock, the entire Company staring in horror. Bella wrested free of Bofur’s arms and reached out for him, and Thorin knew she didn’t have the strength to save him, praying to Mahal she would not reach him in time only to be pulled to her death.

Dwalin was there faster, his strong hand closing on Thorin’s wrist and jerking the king to safety in his turn. Thorin gripped Dwalin’s shoulders as they steadied themselves, eyes locked as Thorin thanked his best friend silently, Dwalin acknowledging the debt and dismissing it in the same brief nod. Once more Thorin had faced his death, and the same being was at the root. Thorin turned and saw Bella shaking in the wind, her eyes meeting his in silent thanks. But he had no welcome for her any longer. Balin let out a breath and tried to lighten the mood. “We almost lost our burglar.”

“She’s been lost since she left home! She’s nothing but a burden we must shoulder.” Bella stared at him, mouth open but no sound escaping her lips. Gandalf was no longer with them, and his threat to destroy the map and key if Bella was left behind held no danger now. “She should never have left her soft land.”

“I could not stay!” She shouted at him suddenly, hands balled into fists. Lighting split the sky above and Balin stepped between them, hand going to each of their shoulders.

“We need to find shelter. I sent Fíli and Kíli ahead to scout.” On cue, Thorin heard them shouting from around the corner they had found a cave. He shot Bella one last glare before turning and following Dwalin to the shelter. He made sure everyone was inside before sinking to the ground in the corner, unable to speak as they caught their breath, cloaks shed and hair wrung dry. Bella sagged against the wall, one arm wrapped around her ribs and the other barely keeping her upright as her knuckles whitened. She was the very picture of fear, of ineffectual weakness. That he had begun to trust her, rely on her presence, meant she had infected him somehow. He could not let down his guard and trust another with his people. She was simply another being, in a long line of elves and men, who had failed the dwarves, and Thorin came to a decision as he felt thunder shake the sky overhead. They would shelter here and leave a Company of dwarves. His dark haired nephew approached, and when Thorin said nothing, sat down next to him, long fingers plucking at the oilskin cover for his bow.

“You shouted my name when Fíli was taken.” Kíli tried to smile as Thorin glanced over at him, but Thorin couldn’t share in his nephew’s attempt to lighten the mood. The Company was fractured over his fight with Bella and the cave was silent as she stumbled into a side chamber to allow everyone else the chance to change from their wet clothes. Óin had a fire started and while their impromptu camp wasn’t warm, the air was not longer frigid and weary travelers could ask for no more. Thorin closed his eyes, seeing red hair strewn upon the rocky ground of Dunland and shuddered. Kíli pulled in on himself, and Thorin relented, reaching out a hand and bringing their foreheads together for a brief moment.

“I’ve never been able to stop doing that. The moment you were born I almost called you Fíli and your father couldn’t stop laughing. Told you mother she didn’t have to be so traditional with the naming of her sons, but she insisted and it was already too late.” Kíli grinned and Thorin cuffed his jaw gently. “Go help your brother check the back of the cave. We’ll be moving on the moment the rain stops.”

“Yes, Uncle.” Thorin began to shed his tunic, deciding against music to try and relax. Something about the cave felt wrong; it was small, but he had moved through far worse during his childhood and through the war fought to the south. The air currents weren’t moving correctly, but he was too tired to try and pinpoint the source now. And they would not be here long enough for it to matter. He was disheartened to hear no banter or teasing as the rest followed his example, and wondered how long he would be putting them to rights when Bella left. She had made a hopeless tangle of loyalty and trust, devotion and duty. Thorin turned to grab dry clothes and winced at the key turned with him, digging into his skin between his collarbones, two links in the chain twisted from his brush with death. He set about fixing it, but his fingers were clumsy and he had to leave the gold damaged, wondering if he would ever have the chance to apologize to his sister for ruining her gift. It was a bad omen, and to distract himself Thorin made his bed as Bella reentered the main chamber, her eyes fixed on her feet.

The king lay down to avoid speaking to her, clutching Orcrist to his chest and watching Bella, wondering how to tell her she was no longer welcome. Now that the moment had come, his tongue felt clumsy and he could not summon the angry speech that had so readily appeared out on the path. She had changed into dry clothes while apart from them, and now she stood buttoning a waistcoat that didn’t fit her very well over her shirt, and shrugged back into her jacket. She checked over her pack and he watched a tear fall down her cheek before she swiped it away angrily. He didn’t want to sleep tonight. He knew he had hurt her ribs once more, and her fear for his safety had been evident. But he had almost died saving her. Dying in the Misty Mountains would not be the end of the quest, but Fíli was unready for kingship yet and Dain or another noble with claims to the throne would find it easy to shuttle the young Prince aside. Dís would arrive to a Mountain hostile to her family and Thorin could all too easily see her dying in a fruitless attempt to reclaim her throne. He needed to live a few more years. Bella wandered over to where Bofur guarded the entrance and leaned against the rock, staring out into the night. “Do you agree with your King?”

“No, lass.” Bofur smiled and glanced over at Thorin, dropping his voice slightly. “He feared for you and fear often twists into anger when the moment has passed. You’ve worked hard for us.”

“Have I?” She shook her head sadly. “Lord Elrond said I would be welcome.” Thorin held his breath. They weren’t far from the elves. She would be safe in Rivendell, and he could absolve himself of any guilt he might feel if she chose to leave on her own. “But where would I go from there? I don’t think I can live out my days among beings so much taller than I.”

“But you would go home, to your Bag End.” She pressed her lip together, her arms cradling her torso. Suddenly Bofur cursed, drawing back from her. “Lass, what’s that?” She pulled out her tiny sword and the blue glow reflected off her disbelieving face. She turned towards Thorin, her mouth opening, but he was already leaping to his feet. “Everyone up! Grab your packs and run!” Bella twirled and raced towards her pack, but she had barely crossed half the cave before the floor opened underneath their feet. Her scream rang in Thorin’s ears, and he could only listen helplessly as the darkness swallowed them all.


	7. Chapter 7

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Thorin faces his past and Bella reveals her true strength.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This is the end for now, lovely readers. Thank you all for your indulgence as I tried to set up some plot for the sequel, explore Thorin's character, and once again work through some issues through story telling.

Thorin clung to Orcrist in one hand, his pack in the other, listening to the screams and groans as they slid through the rough tunnel. They landed on a hard surface, earning bruises in the process, and Thorin struggled to his feet as the screams of goblins ran in his ears. He dodged around Bombur and nearly stepped on Bifur, but now he stood between the Company and danger. He risked a glance behind him to check he had room to fight, glad to see no one was harmed and everyone was scrambling to their feet. “Everyone get ready!”

“Thorin, look out!” Bella cried out from somewhere in the pile of dwarves, and Thorin turned to see what had her sounding so afraid, part of him knowing what he would. He had spent nearly a decade of his life fighting through these caves, and the goblins had had long years to reestablish themselves. Even so, Thorin was unprepared for the horde that rounded the corner, tightening his grip on his sword, pack abandoned in an instant, and sensed Dwalin rushing to stand beside him. He heard Bella’s frantic entreaties to her mother for their safety, but her voice grew closer and he realized she was preparing to make a stand with him. And then the goblins were on them. The Company held firm for mere seconds before the sheer numbers overwhelmed, arms pinned to sides and weapons forced away. Dwalin was roaring a challenge, head butting as best as he could, but every goblin tossed aside was replaced by three, and less than a minute after they had fallen, the entire Company was subdued. Thorin forced his neck around, trying to account for everyone, and saw Bella, held tightly by only two of the foul creatures. Her face was drawn tightly, her teeth bared in a silent snarl, but she didn’t struggle, and a tear rolled down her cheek.

Nori stood next to her and Thorin took a deep breath. He barked a command in Khuzdul and was wrenched back to the path. He could only pray to Mahal that Nori had understood the order was directed at him. Bofur was a wise dwarf, but he didn’t understand, asking why Thorin had ordered the protection of the small one before being silenced by a backhand from one of their captors. With a roar of anger, Dwalin wrenched a hand free and pushed the offender from the rickety scaffolding, earning a cut on his arm for his troubles. As the forced march with whips and steel began, Thorin tried to relax his arms, all too aware of what they would face soon. But he would not see green eyes dimmed in death, or honey brown curls coated in blood. Glancing at Dwalin, eyes darting between a miner and a king, Thorin grunted commands between having fists slam into his sides. Dwalin hesitated but nodded as they were led out onto a ramp and beheld Goblin Town. It was worse than any nightmare, and Thorin was not the only one who whispered Mahal’s name as the Company was forced on, their destination obvious.

 

Thorin stared up at the Goblin King, maintaining eye contact as best he could. The more attention he could draw meant less attention on his people. The brute was delighted to have dwarves to torment and Thorin dared not spare a glance backwards to make sure Nori had hidden Bella. He did not see her small sword among their weapons, so perhaps there was still hope. At the very least he would be spared the sight of her small body in pain, for he was not sure he could hold firm seeing her screaming on the rack or with hot irons on her soft skin even as he prepared for the same. And then his world shattered around him. “Let the Pale Orc know we have the prisoners he has been searching for.” A tiny goblin flew away on a wire and the King smirked as he turned back to his prisoners, meeting Thorin’s eyes with a deliberate air.

“No.” Thorin sagged for a moment, all thoughts scattering before such an impossibility. The King laughed hugely.

“Oh, poor king. The world isn’t the simple place you thought it was? Losing an arm doesn’t end a life. I can show you.” Thorin growled, trying to reach Orcrist. “Let’s see. Bring me the young one!” Nori howled in denial, and as Thorin was forced to his knees he heard the others losing their own struggles. Bella. But before he could do anything, the lights went out with heart stopping suddenness, and as escape appeared, Thorin could only hope everyone followed him as they fought towards the light.

 

As they burst onto the eastern flank of the Misty Mountains, delighting in the cool clean air of evening, Thorin nearly laughed even as he tried to catch his breath. An old enemy dead, all safe, and they had managed to snatch some time back. They might have been another week in the mountains had they stayed on the path. Everyone stumbled to a halt after putting enough distance between themselves and the door to take stock of their losses. All had weapons, but many had lost their pack, and all of the gear that had not been attached to them was lost. Elrond’s assistance had only carried them a month, and Thorin did not dare to think to the journey ahead for now. Nori had the hobbit’s pack on his back, and Thorin breathed a sigh of relief. The clever thief had understood. But the absence of a small figure hit him once more. “Nori, where is Bella?”

“She was right behind me!” Nori spun. “I told her I would take her pack and she should hold onto the strap to stay close. But…I didn’t hear her before we entered the great cavern.”

“Bella!” Kíli made to race back towards the door but Fíli grabbed him, face set.

“She either fell or was pulled away by some of the goblins. We will not find her, brother.” Kíli spun and stared down at his older brother, eyes wide and voice low.

“She saved our lives! We owe her the attempt!” Thorin snarled them into silence.

“We cannot risk all of our lives for her. She is gone. I should have sent her back when I had the chance. Gandalf, I told you this was no place for a gentle Halfling.” Gandalf scowled, but said nothing, bending his head so his hat hid his eyes. Thorin recalled how the wizard had looked at Bella, and knew the guilt in his heart was nothing compared to what the old man was feeling. His throat was tight, and he had to force his next words out one at a time. They could not see him falter now. “We will move from here. Once we lose the light we will be pursued. Mourn her and face forward.”

“Wait!” Thorin spun as Bella emerged from behind a tree, her face flushed and clothes torn. She had a bruise on her arm and scrapes on her face, and her hair was unbound once more, but she was moving well and a smile broke over her face as she stepped forward. “I’m here. Gandalf, I’m…”

“Child.” He began to laugh, leaning against a nearby pine even as he reached his hand for her and she took it with a smile. “I feared for you so. How did you escape?”

“I fell. I found tunnels that led me to the entrance and I managed to hide from the goblins.” She put a hand over the pocket to her buttonless waistcoat and glanced down at her feet, stepping back from the Wizard.

“And why did you not escape to safety?” Thorin stepped forward. “The elves would have sheltered you.” She drew herself up to her full height, still well below his chin, and met his eyes firmly. The strength he saw was new and he wondered what stories she was concealing. Something had changed her, deep in the dark.

“I know you don’t trust me, Thorin. I am a stranger to you. But I believe that you deserve a home. No one has the right to take a home away, and I will see you sitting on your throne.” She cleared her throat, glancing around hesitantly. “It’s the right thing to do.” Thorin stared up at her, stunned at the level of insight she had shown. She threw his thoughts back in his face, but not in anger. He bent his head, acknowledging the truth of her words, and she nodded back, about to say something when a howl chilled his heart. “Warg.” She whispered and he began to run, making sure she kept up with them this time as Gandalf led them in a retreat. Bella stumbled and he caught her hand, listening to Bifur kill a lone Warg who had ventured too close. As the cliff appeared and Gandalf led them into the trees, Thorin hefted Bella to a branch before following her. She climbed well, better than he, and he realized she was far more resilient than any had given her credit for as he turned and saw the pack enter the clearing. Everyone fell silent, hands tightening on weapons. And then another nightmare walked in the waking world.

 

Defiler. Thorin had never seen the interior of Khazad-dûm with his own eyes, but he remembered the scrolls and murals in Erebor, and the thought of such a misshapen murderer standing amid Durin’s own Halls, the blood of more Longbeards than Smaug himself on his hand and claw was more than an affront. He had thought it ended. Anything, everything, was worth seeing Azog dead, and Thorin felt his boots thudding along the tree, the comforting weight of a mighty weapon in his hand and his vambrace a heavy reminder on his arm. But as always, the Orc changed the rules of their encounter. He urged his foul beast forward and launched himself to meet the dwarf’s attack, flesh and metal colliding in an instant. Thorin felt himself thrown and his mail was being crushed into his ribs, Orcrist gone and useless. Just like he was. The stars and sparks blurred together as he was thrown against a rock and he closed his eyes for a moment, the pain sharp and instant. “Bring me his head.” Thorin cracked an eye open and watched Azog order another forward. So. Not even the honor due a worthy opponent. Breath pushed from his lungs in a gasp of pain and his body shuddered.

But after a stunned moment, he tried to lever himself to his elbows at least. He would not let them say he had lay on the ground and accepted his death. Let Fíli see his King fight as best as he had been able before dying. As the Orc raised his sword, Thorin tried to spit but his mouth was too dry to express his dying defiance. A blur flew through the air and resolved into Bella, her teeth bared and her sword slashing and stabbing in a frenzy of violence. There was no form to her attack, but the sheer ferocity she displayed had the Orc down and dead before anyone could move. She twirled, coat flaring around her hips, and she confronted Azog. “You will not touch him!” Azog bellowed a laugh and urged his mount forward. Bella shook, stepping backwards, but she did not stand aside. Thorin fell back to the ground, his blood loss and injuries forcing him into darkness. His last clear thought was that if there was ever a time to pray for Mahal’s grace, this was it.

 

_Red hair on the rocks, mingled with blood. Dís wept into Thorin’s chest as Frerin turned the dwarf lying on the ground to her back. His breath left his body in a soft hiss. “Nyrath? Can you hear me?” No answer. Thorin only had to look at the state her clothes were in to know what had happened, and he raised a hand to Dís’ hair and pushed her face into his chest again._

_“Close your eyes, sister.”_

_“But she…I found her crawling up the slope. She said the Ironfists…” Dís began to weep and Thorin met his brother’s eyes._

_“I will bring the healers.”_

_“Move quickly, brother.” Thorin felt the wind pick up from the plains and the landscape blurred, taking everyone with it until he knelt on the hill below Bag End. Bella stood in front of him, staring up at the door as silent dwarves moved around and through her. She turned and stared at him, eyes glowing in the fire raging around her, but she walked over coals and under burning pines gracefully. Thorin bowed his head but she picked up a burning branch and swung it towards him, tears rolling down her cheeks._

Thorin saw a bright light flying towards him and flinched away from it, but could not avoid the collision. There was no noise but the beating of his heart for an eternity, then breath was filling his lungs and there was warm red light overhead. He fluttered his eyes open and looked up into Gandalf’s face. Pain crashed into him but he had greater concerns. “The Halfling?” For a moment the Wizard’s eyes misted over and Thorin caught his breath. No. Not for him. Suddenly a small smile twitched at the corner of Gandalf’s mouth.

“Bella is safe.” Fíli and Kíli rushed forward, helping Thorin to his feet as his eyes drank in the sight of all of his companions together. And there she was, standing apart, her eyes tight but her lips curved in a smile. Thorin’s throat was raw but he managed to start speaking.

“You!” She flinched visibly as Thorin stumbled towards her, but she did not move as he advanced. “Did I not accuse you of being a burden? Did I call you soft and useless to us?” She bit her lip and shrank back, confused. Thorin heard the dissenting growls behind him and stood over his rescuer, meeting her gaze firmly. “I have never been so wrong.” He enfolded her in a hug and after a moment, her arms wrapped around his ribs, supportive but not pressing into his bruised and battered hide. She shook and it took him a moment to realize she was laughing quietly as she rested her chin on his furs and he felt her relax in his arms as he brought a hand to her hair and cradled her closer. Distant cheers reached them, but he was barely aware as he pulled back from her, hands on her shoulders as he looked down into her eyes. “I will never doubt you again, Bella.”

“Don’t make promises you can’t keep, Thorin.” A sparkling smile lit her face, and Thorin brushed her hair back from her cheek, letting his fingers linger on her skin as he laughed in his turn. Birdsong sounded and they both glanced up, tracking the fluttering wings and turning to see a stark silhouette on the horizon. Bella gasped as she stepped back into Thorin’s chest, and she glanced up at him as he put his hands on her shoulders to steady her. “Is that…?”

“Erebor. Our home.” Thorin’s stomach fluttered as he stared at the profile he had not seen for over a century, Bella’s firm weight against him keeping him upright. The slight hobbit shuddered suddenly and Thorin felt her sag as he caught her. “Are you hurt?”

“Tired.” She righted herself and stepped away as Óin hurried over, muttering imprecations as he dug his hands in his pockets, pulling out small packets of herbs the elves had given him.

“You’re both hurt. Do we stay here or carry on?”

“I have a friend nearby.” Gandalf glanced around, eyes narrowed. “A day’s journey from here.”

“Bella, are you able to travel?” Thorin waved Óin away. He hurt, his ribs burned and his breath labored, but he was a child of Mahal and had walked after suffering worse. Bella held his attention. She was beautiful, standing in the light of the rising sun, trying to assure Óin she was just tired and hungry, that he need not concern himself. Thorin interrupted the healer as Bella shrank back from Óin’s touch and she sank to the rock, her face blanching. “Leave her be. She is stronger than any of us suspected.” Perhaps he could explain _sanzarira_ , and why Bofur had made the offer he had; if Thorin was blessed, she might ask him to her bed. Bella glanced over with a smile, but her eyes were still burning with fear and even as Thorin reached out a hand to help her stand, he froze.

Every time they touched her when she wasn’t expecting it, or offered a hand, she flinched. She hadn’t said she was a virgin. And she had been so willing to leave her home, and no one had tried to stop her. Suspicion bloomed dark in his mind, and Thorin reeled back from Bella quickly. Nori stepped in where Thorin had feared to tread, offering Bella her pack and sitting at her feet, telling her what had happened while they were all separated. She had her hand on her torn waistcoat, but soon she was giggling again at Nori’s obvious exaggerations to his own prowess, trying to contain her mirth and failing.

With a heavy heart, Thorin tried to turn his attentions to the rest, but kept an eye on the two thieves. He had no right to feel his fists clenching as Bella steadied herself on Nori’s shoulder; she would make her choice if she wanted to, and with his suspicions, Thorin could not begin to think of trying to win his way to her side. Dwalin stood by Bofur, but Thorin recognized the considering look the warrior was giving Bella. A night of _sanzarira_ rarely led to more, and Bofur would not stop any advances Dwalin might make. He should not be surprised. Two competing already, and she not back for more than an hour. He would do his best to make sure she was aware of their attentions, and push the limits of their fragile peace to see if his thoughts bore truth. But not until they were all safe. At least with Gandalf back with them, Thorin could trust her care to another while he led them from the high rock to the plains.

 

The Company paused at the base of the Carrock, washing the stink of goblins and Orcs from everything they had managed to carry from their brief captivity. Bella offered them use of some of her old clothes as towels before she went upstream, accompanied by Gandalf, Nori, Dwalin and Bofur. Fíli pushed a cavorting Kíli into the water before joining his uncle at the stream, eyes serious. “Something has changed, Majesty.”

“Everything has changed. Azog is alive, and knows we stand with our feet pointed home.” Thorin tossed his under tunic aside and prepared to enter the river, pausing as Fíli grabbed his elbow.

“You did not have to face him. How dare you risk yourself when we have a kingdom to think of!” Thorin froze. He had nearly cast Bella aside for putting him in danger, and he had done the same to Fíli in his turn. “That is not the act of a King, Thorin.” Both were silent as the river rushed by them, until Thorin managed to nod his head and break the tension.

“I cannot promise I will live to the end of this journey, Fíli. But I do swear by Mahal and Eru that I will not step needlessly into danger.” Fili finally nodded and turned to join the others as Thorin eased himself into the water, clinging to the rocks to keep himself from falling. Icy cold water stole his breath, but the pain it carried away was worth every second he froze. He was about to dunk his hair when he noticed the looks everyone else was slanting his direction and the especially thoughtful look on Óin’s face had the king leaving the water, reaching for a shirt with a terrible rent in it and burying his face in the soft cloth before realizing what he had done. Bella’s elusive scent hit his nostrils and warmed him before he had the strength to pull away and dress as quickly as he could, and he lay back against the Carrock carefully, wondering how to balance the new Company and determined he would not fail them a second time.

Bella was given a chance to wash, the dwarves fanning out across the countryside in a ring to guard her privacy. Gandalf stayed close, back to her as she shivered her way into the water. And Thorin sat nearby, barely able to walk from leaving the river so quickly, unsure if he should cover his ears as he listened to Bella curse her mother’s waters and wondering why she kept referring to her departed mother so angrily. But he would not leap to assumptions this time. To distract himself, Thorin very carefully met Gandalf’s eye and was pleased to see the Wizard fidgeting. “Can hobbits swim?”

“No. Which is why I stayed.”

“And do all hobbits curse their mothers so?” Gandalf’s laugher boomed over the woods and startled some birds into flight.

“I believe she is referring to the mother of her race, Thorin, not my dear Belladonna. Though she would find the comparison most amusing indeed.”

“Yavanna would as well, I think.” They shared a brief smile, both nearly turning as they heard a loud splash.

“I’m fine! Don’t turn around!” Bella squawked and clambered back to the bank, her voice quavering. “It’s much colder than the Brandywine, Gandalf.”

“Did I promise it wasn’t? My deepest apologizes. But you are clean now and we can continue forward to get you healed.”

“I’m fine, Gandalf. A few bruises.” The two squabbled about her health until she was dressed and put her hand on Thorin’s shoulder, jolting him from his contemplation of the distant claw of his home. “I’m ready to go, Thorin, if you are?” He glanced up into her creased face and tried to smile.

“Of course.” As the Company gathered, Nori stood by Bella and took her pack, commiserating over the loss of her staff and promising to steal her one. But Dori pulled his brother away after a few miles as Balin and Ori took the rogue’s place, and Thorin enjoyed the lecture Nori was given by Dori. It was almost as good as listening to Dís. His hand stole up to her chain and he ran his fingers over the gold in disbelief. The minor repair was gone, and the chain whole once more. Blasted Wizard.

 

The day was nearly over by the time the Company limped from the forest to find fields of clover and giant bees filling the air with their hum. Thorin protested Gandalf’s plan to separate himself and Bella from the rest, but the memory of Glamdring killing the Goblin King stilled his tongue. “Make sure no harm befalls either of you, Wizard.” Gandalf said nothing as he walked away, Bella at his side. The whistle sounded agonizing minutes later and Thorin walked as quickly as he could with Balin, barely acknowledging their prospective host before checking on the hobbit, bread in hand and as relaxed as he had ever seen her. He sat across the table, doing his best to answer Beorn’s questions and listening to the tale Gandalf wove, but his concentration was shattered as Bella drooped and the rest of the Company arrived in pairs. She slumped against the table and Thorin rose, walking to her side quickly. “Master Beorn, my apologizes. But we are weary and I will answer all your questions tomorrow.” The big man followed Thorin’s gaze.

“Little bunny, wake up! I have safe beds for you all.” She blinked in weariness but Thorin did not reach for her, simply waited by her side until she managed to stand and Beorn showed them huge mattresses down the hall. There was no privacy and while Bella didn’t seem to mind as she sank down, the dwarves all agreed without speaking their burglar deserved more. It was the work of moments to hang a sheet around a small section next to the wall, and when Bella realized it was for her she thanked them all, her disbelief that they would see to her needs even in such a small way nearly enough confirmation for Thorin.

“Sleep, all of you. Orcs will not dare trouble these halls and your host guards the grounds.” Gandalf bid them all a goodnight, and Thorin placed himself next to the curtain, not trusting even Gandalf’s word that they were safe.

 

_Frerin stood in the grove of trees, protecting their wounded father. Thorin had lost all but his sword in the melee and fought through enclosing vines to try and reach his family. The Dimril Gate loomed large and smoke poured from the entrance, and he heard screams from inside. Familiar screams. Thorin turned, seeing Bella confronting Azog once more, their swords locked in battle and white Wargs circling the pair in an endless loop. She fell to the earth, eyes accusing, and Azog laughed and laughed as Thorin screamed. Thorin stood by Frerin and stared at the blood on both their axes._

_“She is avenged.” Frerin’s face started to char from the heat of the consuming flames and Thorin wept as the plains of Dunland spread before him._

_“No. She’s not. And she never will be.” Bella looked up at the Mountain, and as she disappeared into the Front Gate Thorin could not follow, his scream of agony ringing in his ears without end._

 

Limbs trembling and unsure of where he was, Thorin woke with a start, but the calming snores of his dwarves helped him back to the present, and he heard Bella’s soft sigh as he tried to calm his heartbeat. She was safe. Wishing he had accepted Óin’s sleeping draught, the king lay awake for hours until falling asleep once more, wondering how he could talk to Bella without destroying their bond, the thin connection stronger than before but still untested.

The next morning, both Gandalf and Beorn were gone and the strange animals served them breakfast. Bella disappeared as the rest of them lingered over their food, so quietly it took Thorin several minutes to realize she no longer sat by Bofur. After insistent nagging from too many mouths, Thorin finally allowed Óin to tend to his hurts, and the look on Kíli’s face as he looked at the bruises from the Warg’s teeth on his uncle’s skin told Thorin all he needed to know about how awful he looked. Óin had his king patched up quickly, and Thorin was ordered away to rest. Instead, he reclaimed his coat, leaving his mail off for now. He found Balin and sank to the stool nearby, unsure of what to say until he remembered his nightmares. “Do you know Nyrath well?”

“The weaver? She is one of the best. I believe she made Dís’ wedding dress.” Balin looked nonplussed. “Why, lad?”

“I’ve been dreaming of her and Dunland for months. Ever since I met Bella.” Balin furrowed his brow.

“Why?” Before Thorin could open his mouth, understanding flooded Balin’s face and he pulled Thorin in close, fist buried in his King’s tunic. “If you even suspect of such a thing, you do not talk about it like this. It is not a subject for idle speculation or gossip. Until you know for sure, I do not wish to hear another word.” Thorin kept his face calm and nodded, taking a deep breath as Balin’s fist relaxed.

“Balin, I’m sorry.”

“The only one you own an apology to is Bella.” His councilor’s face brooked no argument and Thorin left. There was only one place he could go. As he stepped outside, Bella made a beautiful picture against the bucolic scene, the slump of her shoulders and her hair falling down her back begging for a soothing hand. But she deserved more from him. He owed her everything, and he would start by earning her trust, giving her what she needed and not what he wanted. Thorin took a deep breath.

“Halfling, I would speak with you.”


	8. Chapter 8

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> The Company learns of Bella's past and Thorin confronts a startling truth.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> All right, little nervous about this one. Balancing everyone's reactions was difficult to write. Thank you all for your patience and support.

“Will you tell them one at a time?” Bella’s gentle face glowed in the soft light of the tapers overhead and Thorin stilled his fingers from reaching out for her brilliance. Her request cut deeply but he nodded and watched how her shoulders relaxed under the blue silk before swallowing the lump in his throat and trying to speak.

“If you want me to, that is how I will.”

“I do. We’re a Company and I think they deserve to know it’s not their actions that have me acting this way.” She lowered her gaze from him and Thorin almost told her she had no obligation to ease the feelings of her companions by exposing such a secret, but he held his tongue. It was Bella’s choice and he would not have her second-guessing herself. Instead, he reached out and let her put her small fingers in the palm of his hand before he carefully closed his fist over tender skin, feeling a small cut on her knuckle as he bowed to her courage, honoring Bella the only way he could before taking another breath to steady himself. As their eyes met briefly, Thorin could not help but recall how soft her lips had been as he had held her earlier and stepped back, dropping her hand and turning from her.

“As you wish.” She disappeared before he could say more, and the King stumbled a few steps before mastering his legs. She knew not what she asked. But she had saved his life, the future of Erebor and his people. For Bella, he would obey. As he entered the great hall, Dwalin glanced up and pushed back from the table, intercepting Thorin before he could get closer to the Company.

“What is your game with her, Thorin? I saw the look on your face.” Anger filled Dwalin’s voice and Thorin nearly replied with his own rage, but managed to pull back and put a hand to his friend’s shoulder.

“There is no game, Dwalin. Walk with me a moment.” The warrior scowled but obeyed his King, following Thorin into the shadows and taking a seat against the wall, the laughter of the Company still raucous in the distance.

“You say you’re not playing a game. Prove it to me. Escorting her to dinner? Whispering at her all night, watching her as though she walked under a slip?” Scorn tinged his friend’s voice and Thorin heard the unspoken rebuke for his previous treatment of their burglar. 

“Stop!” Thorin closed his eyes and saw red hair on the rocky ground, heard his sister’s screams, before he pushed his nightmares away. “Stop, Dwalin. Bella asked me to tell you this, because she was worried that you had mistaken her actions this night.” His throat was tight but Dwalin had stopped his tirade, his hands clenched on his knees, eyes hidden but catching the nearby candlelight. “Bella was raped when she was nineteen.” Not a muscle moved on Dwalin’s body for long moments as Thorin held his breath, then a deep snarl rose as the warrior stood and slammed his fist into the wall, his chest heaving.

“No.”

“I explained why you were beginning to pay more attention to her and she understands…”

“Understands! I must have terrified her!” Dwalin spun from Thorin and stared out into the hall. “How could I have not seen it? She must hate me.”

“Dwalin! She trusts you. She said she trusts all of us.”

“How can she?” Dwalin slumped back to the bench. “We’re practically strangers.”

“Who never treated her as though there was something wrong with her, or that she was less.” Thorin gently cuffed his cousin’s shoulder. “And you were kind to her from the beginning. Kinder than I.” But Dwalin shook his head, his eyes on his clenched fists.

“It will take more than that to earn her forgiveness.” Thorin said nothing; he had received a startling look into Bella’s mind, and that she might not see anything to forgive in Dwalin’s action was likely. That she still retained such trust after the hardships she had faced spoke to a strong heart. Dwalin groaned and shook his head. “I will keep her safe.”

“Then I will rest easier.”

“We ought to teach her to fight.”

“I’ll wait a while to broach that subject with her.” Dwalin nodded and cleared his throat again.

“I will send Nori to you next.” Slowly getting to his feet, Dwalin walked away, staring down at his boots. Thorin let out a slow breath, trying to calm his heartbeat. He wished he could have told them as a group; he was already feeling sick, but Bella’s request had been clear. Nori finally sauntered over, a dagger in one hand and a tankard in the other, his smile sharp as he stopped several paces from Thorin.

“What is it?”

“Will you sit?” The thief glanced behind him and shifted on his feet before stepping closer.

“Not right now.” Thorin kept his hands on his knees, taking two breaths through his nose before explaining why he had summoned Nori. Within moments, the poacher had both his knives in his hands and a terrifying light in his eyes, his tankard in pieces on the floor.

“Say that again.” He spun and plunged both blades into the pillar next to him, the handles vibrating as Nori confronted Thorin.

“I think you heard me the first time.” Thorin growled. “I will not.”

“You’re lying.” But there was no conviction in his voice. “Please. Tell me you lie, Thorin.”

“You know I do not.”

“No.” Pleading, Nori stepped closer, staring into Thorin’s eyes. “Why?”

“You know I can’t answer that. I told her why you were flirting with her and why she had earned such regard.” Nori flushed but nodded, his arms crossing over his chest as he stared at the wall before suddenly glaring at his King.

“And what do you think you’re doing to her?”

“I owe her everything.”

“Not that. I mean the way you’ve been watching her after warning us off. I won’t let you suddenly decide she’s worth something because she killed for you.”

“It’s not like that, cousin.” Thorin held out his hands. “But she had just told me of a horrific attack she survived. You think I would not watch over her tonight, when none of you knew?” Nori froze then retrieved his blades with a quick nod.

“You’re right. But know this. She is now tied to us, and I will protect her. And one day, I will grant her vengeance.”

“I hope that you can fulfill that vow one day, Nori. But a better one would be to help her recover, and find her own strength.”

“I think she is finding it without our help. But I will watch over her as my sister.”

“Then I thank you.” Thorin watched Nori snarl, staring with unfocused eyes at the wall. The thief shook his head and sheathed his knives, then placed his hand over his heart briefly. Thorin copied him and Nori turned towards the light, pausing as his King cleared his throat.

 “Will you send Bofur to me next?” Nori nodded.

“Of course. I would not spread this news for anything. Does she know what she asked?”

“Of course not.” Thorin adjusted his seat, his muscles protesting and trying to relax against his inner turmoil. “But I would not contradict her for the world.” Nori left without another word, the set of his shoulders angry as he stalked back to his family. Bofur glanced up at his friend and flashed a smile that faded into confusion, and Thorin closed his eyes until he heard the miner was close.

“Thorin?”

“Please, sit.” Bofur slumped on the bench, pushing his hat back on his head and raising an eyebrow. “It’s about Bella.”

“Finally admitted you want…”

“No!” Thorin couldn’t face the question he knew was coming, raising his voice louder than he meant to. Bofur jumped in surprise but held his tongue, eyes wide. “There was more to her refusal of you than her being a virgin.” Briefly, Thorin explained in terse sentences, watching tears fill Bofur’s eyes before the other dwarf turned away and let out a shuddering breath.

“I must have scared her so badly. I should have seen it was not simply inexperience!”

“None of us made that leap. Hobbits are backwards.”

“They did nothing for her?” Bofur’s voice quavered. “I can not imagine her strength, living for so long alone. I can’t believe she even allowed us inside.”

“That has nothing to do with us and everything to do with her trust in Gandalf.”

“And perhaps the prospect of spending time with those who would not judge her.” Bofur mastered himself, taking deep breaths before pounding his fist into the bench. “I will make sure she knows she is safe with us.” Thorin refrained from commenting they traveled to face a dragon, knowing what Bofur meant and silently joining in his oath. “Thank you for telling me, Thorin. I hope she comes to trust all of us as she trusts you.”

Thorin raised his eyebrow, but realized Bofur had touched the core of his relationship with the hobbit. Somehow, despite all the misunderstandings and anger, Bella had trusted him with her greatest secret and his heart skipped a beat as he tried to imagine how she had overcome her fear. He must ask her what had happened to her beneath Goblin-town. With a deep sigh, Bofur stood. “Who would you have me send to you next?” Thorin considered and finally chose Glóin, blinking rapidly as Bofur left in silence. He had hoped repeating himself would take away the horror of the words, but he could see nothing but the sheer terror in Bella’s eyes as she recounted the truth to him every time he spoke. And he could not forget how close he had been to pushing himself at her back on the Carrock; his traitor brain reminded him again how sweet she had been in his arms as his cousin warily stepped closer.

“Glóin.”

“Thorin.” The warrior did not smile; he had caught the mood, at least. “May I sit?”

“Please.” Thorin waited until his cousin was comfortable and tried to think of another way to broach the subject. “Bella wanted me to tell you this.” But Glóin started violently as Thorin explained their burglar’s past, and the warrior hid his eyes with one hand, the other blindly groping for his locket.

“Oh, lass. Sweet, brave little lass.” His voice broke on his words and Thorin waited until Glóin was more composed. “No wonder she was so distant. Has she any family?”

“None but a few cousins she would grace with the name.” Glóin hissed in agony and bent his head low, staring at the gold circle in his hand.

“What can we do for her? What did she say?”

“She said she wanted little.”

“Then we must show her she is worth much. And that she can find a new family. I have seen how she tries to find her place among us. I only hope she understands we acted in ignorance.”

“Thank you, Glóin. She needs all the support we can give her right now.”

“She has it.” He finally straightened, folding his arms over his beard. “Mahal! But she trusted you enough to tell you?”

“I suspected on the Carrock. When I told her of our own ways, she answered my question.”

“She is very brave, then.” Glóin shook his head again, taking a deep breath before cursing. “Mahal’s hammer take them! Have they no sense of justice?”

“Not as we understand it.” Axes in the dark. But they had been named, and Thorin did not regret hunting down Nyrath’s attackers with his brother, for all of his nightmares. “But if we can not give her justice, at least we can show her a new life.”

“Well put.” Glóin groaned under his breath, whispering Suthri’s name, and clapped Thorin on the shoulder hard enough to remind him of every bruise he had. “And if she trusts you, cousin, I will too.”

“Thank you.” Glóin left and Thorin covered his eyes for a moment, breathing through his nose as deeply as he could as he listened to Glóin tell Fíli Thorin wanted to see him.

Fíli’s steps were hesitant and his face carefully blank as he approached his uncle, and Thorin noted his heir’s right hand hovered near his dagger. “Uncle.”

“Sit.” Fíli selected a perch close enough for private conversation, far enough away that they could look the other in the face without turning their necks too far. “I have something to tell you.” Watching Fíli’s face close at his words hurt and the fair dwarf put a hand over his mouth, turning away as Thorin recovered his breath.

“No. Even hobbits…they would not.”

“They would.”

“No!” The word snarled through the air, several heads turning to stare at King and Prince.

“Fíli.” Thorin put his hand on Fíli’s shoulder and squeezed. “Look at me. Denying it won’t help her.”

“But she’s so brave.” Fíli’s face crumpled. “She put herself in danger for me. For my brother.”

“And for me. For all of us. Yes. And her bravery has nothing to do with what happened to her and everything to do with her own innate courage.”

“You’re right. What can we do for her?”

“I have been thinking of offering her kinship.” Fíli glanced over quickly, eyebrows furrowed and mouth set in a thin line.

“Might I suggest that such an offer wait? Let her grow used to us again, and let us learn more of her.”

“I thought you would council me against it.”

“She is already _shomakhîth_. Why not my close kin? She looks after Kíli and I sometimes as though she were our older sister and I find myself submitting.” Fíli smiled for a quick moment, staring up at the ceiling. “A very strange older sister, of course.”

“One younger than you by decades, if I am any judge.” The knot in Thorin’s chest eased as his heir nodded.

“Still, I will start to explain our ways to her, and lead my way to kinship. To have her as my sister in truth would be an honor I am not sure I deserve.”

“I am not sure any of us deserve her kindness, but we have it.” Thorin brought his forehead to Fíli’s for a moment, and felt his nephew’s hand tremble. “Thank you, sister son. You are a fine heir.” Running his hands down his thighs, Fíli shook slightly until he mastered himself.

“I can’t believe she trusted you enough.”

“Neither can I. She has taught me a lesson I was long overdue for. I judged her so harshly, and she is the bravest of us all.” Thorin curled his hands into fists, remembering how she had discounted herself even while he had praised her, and wondered how they could get her to accept her own courage.

“A good lesson, then.” Fíli swallowed heavily. “I think I will go sit with those who you have told already. This is a difficult night for us all.” Thorin nodded.

“Send me Bombur, please.” The cook ambled over after listening to the prince, but his eyes were narrowed and he sat without being asked. After Thorin had stumbled through Bella’s story once more, Bombur sat in stunned silence, hands clasped together until his knuckles were white, but it took him long minutes to speak.

“She is so small. It would be…this world is not kind to those who are small and innocent.” The cook’s voice was soft and Thorin heard the suppressed tears.

“True.”

“Why did she leave?”

“She felt trapped. I wonder…when Gandalf said he knew of someone who would leave, if he really thought we needed her, or that she needed us more.”

“Both, I think. She saved my life. When that troll was about to eat me. And I have enjoyed her company as we worked together.” The large dwarf was rambling and Thorin stayed quiet, recognizing the defensive retreat of a brain struggling to understand. He had seen his grandfather and father do the same in the days after Smaug’s attack. “I thought she was frail. But I can see it for fear, now. And still she stayed. She should not have.”

“Where would she go?”

“The elves looked on her kindly.”

“And tower overhead.”

“We teased her!” Bombur snarled, finally snapping from his shock. “You threatened to cast her aside! The Longbeards always see things so starkly. But I should have known something was wrong.”

“Bombur, we all made mistakes regarding Bella. Do not blame yourself.” Guilt close to overwhelming him, Thorin put a careful hand on his friend’s shoulder. “You have been so welcoming to her. I know she appreciates it, and your kindness has made her feel at home. She asked me to tell you, but I’m not sure she realized what it would do. Don’t treat her differently.”

“Of course not!” Bombur snorted. “You’re the one who’s doing that.” Thorin bit the inside of his mouth, determined that he would not lose his temper, bowing his head briefly as the red haired dwarf stood and wiped at his eyes.

“Please wait a moment to send Dori to me.” Watching his divided Company, the king winced; those he had already spoken to huddled at one end of the large table, steadfastly refusing to speak to the others. The rest were staring over at him, their faces worried. Dwalin had his arm around Bofur, clinging to the miner as he would a lifeline, and Fíli was caressing his fiddle but not playing, his eyes sad. Dori was fussing over Ori, pouring tea into two mugs, but didn’t press one onto his younger brother, instead rising and making his way to Thorin’s side. Bemused, Thorin accepted the offering, sipping at the hot liquid and waiting for the fussy dwarf to sit.

“You looked as though you needed this.”

“I did. Thank you.”

“And what are you saying that had my brother so angry?”

“A moment, please.” Dori sat back and held his tea, watching out of the corner of his eyes as he pursed his lips.

“Of course. Take your time, Thorin.” Thorin stared into his mug for a long moment then gulped his tea down, letting the ceramic warm his palm until it went cold.

“I imagine watching me talk to everyone one at a time has everyone on edge.”

“It’s not the kindest thing you’ve done.” Trying to bite back his disbelieving laugh, knowing it was inappropriate, Thorin was unable to stifle the sour chuckle in time.

“You should put your tea aside.” The alchemist frowned before delicately setting the large mug aside and turning to look Thorin right in his eyes.

“Enough. Tell me.” Thorin opened his mouth and watched agony spread across Dori’s face as he leapt to his feet, screaming at the ceiling, before stumbling to his knees. Everyone in the room jumped, and two of Beorn’s dogs ran out from the kitchen and whined until Balin told them to leave, but they lingered in the doorway, tails tucked between their legs and ears pinned back until they were sure Dori wasn’t going to repeat his performance and they slunk away. Thorin saw the cracks in the stone beneath Dori’s fist and helped his cousin to his feet and made him sit before feeling ready to speak.

“I know, Dori.”

“It can’t be possible. She is so kind and thoughtful to us, and you tell me her own people rejected her? For something she had no control over?” Dori raised his fist but let it fall to his lap as he threw his head back, chest heaving. “I see it now, her fear. I’m surprised she didn’t run from us after Bofur’s offer.” Thorin nodded heavily. “I will hunt them down one day!”

“How?”

“Listen to me, your Majesty. It does not matter how, or how long it might take, but she will know justice one way or the other.” Thorin bit back his angry retort that they were already on a quest, knowing Dori would see reason in time. “By my mother’s tomb I swear it.”

“Then I will let Bella know she has a steadfast ally, my friend.”

“What else did she say? What can we do for her?”

“I don’t know yet. Continue to welcome her, and perhaps we will come to know her enough we might understand her way of thinking.”

“As well as we can, then. Well. I know she has a liking for the clover tea of our host, and she will have all I can carry.” Thorin’s eyes burned. He saw how Dori fussed over his brothers, carrying the little treats he knew they liked, and wondered how Bella would react to such pure kindness.

“I had not noticed. But then, she did steal you the honey you still hoard.” Dori’s laugh was strangled and he buried his face in his hands for a moment.

“She did at that.” They sat in silence, watching the Company, until Dori stood. “Promise me this, Thorin. We will let her choose of when to speak of this again after this night.”

“Agreed.”

“Bifur is growing agitated. I think he needs to speak to you next.” Thorin nodded and Dori walked over to the toymaker, Bifur seemingly intent on his work, but his frequent glances at Thorin betrayed his anxiety. Wisely, Dori approached Bifur with slow steps, stopping short of him and catching his attention before speaking. He waved a hand at Thorin before Bifur nodded and leaned on his spear, making his way across the hall at his own pace, the heavy wood clicking on the stone. Despite the grizzled warrior’s appearance and tendency to drift from the present, Thorin could see the strength in how Bifur moved.

If there was greater testament to the hardiness of the dwarves, he could not think of one. Any other being would have long succumbed to their injuries, but Bifur adapted and contributed, sometimes better than any in the Company. And perhaps there was something of that hardiness in Bella, for all that her wounds could not be seen. Bifur didn’t meet Thorin’s eyes as his fingers traced over a small carving of a bear as Thorin spoke slowly in Khuzdul, not wanting his friend to have to struggle to translate. But once Bella’s past was revealed, Bifur froze and stared at Thorin, trembling, then snapped the little figurine in two as the old warrior reached for his boar spear. “Where?”

“Bifur!” Thorin grabbed the spear, but Bifur’s berserker rage pushed the King to the floor easily. “They are not here! Bofur!”

“Where are they?” Bifur stabbed at a pillar, the blade sinking into the wood as Thorin tried to grab his shoulders. Bofur and Bombur were there in moments, wrapping their cousin in a tight hug, whispering assurances. Bifur glared up at Thorin. “Tell me where they are, my King!”

“Not here.” Thorin knelt. “I’m sorry, Bifur.” The warrior shook and buried his head in Bombur’s shoulder, and Thorin sank back, his guilt as sharp as Bifur’s spear. Bofur shrugged as he rose, face set.

“He’s quite fond of her, in his way. Ever since she stole food for him specifically. I should have thought about how he would take it, though.”

“I should have too.” Thorin pressed his forehead to Bifur’s briefly before he was led away, still clutching his weapon and muttering threats. “Will he be all right?”

“I think so.” Bofur followed them and Thorin gritted his teeth. He should have been careful with Bifur, not let his own discomfort with this task make him hasty. Óin was checking on the old warrior, finally pushing some herbs into Bombur’s hands and giving him instructions before whirling and stomping over towards Thorin, mouth set. “What do you think you’re doing, agitating him like that? He’ll recover but he’ll need to rest tomorrow. Like yourself.” Thorin raised his voice, ignoring the healer’s demands.

“Sit a moment.” Glaring, Óin sank to the bench. With his horn still damaged Thorin resorted to _iglishmêk_ , so he would not shout Bella’s secrets to all, and all the fire left Óin as he covered his eyes, Thorin dropping his hands. The healer’s voice stayed low as he leaned against the rough wall behind them.

“I wondered why she was afraid to have me tend to her wounds.” Thorin grunted and Óin gripped his arm hard. “I have been reading the portents as we travel. She is important to this quest, Thorin. You must keep her safe.” Trying to hide his impatience with the healer’s faith in such things, Thorin nodded. “Without her, we will fail.”

“I thought we all knew that we need her to sneak into Erebor.”

“It’s something else. I can’t see what, but it’s going to be difficult.”

“Please let me know what you see. Is there something we can do for Bella?” Thorin signed along as he spoke, knowing Óin could read his lips. The healer pursed his lips, portents and omens forgotten as he turned to his craft.

“Mental wounds like that, kept so long buried, will take time to be…dealt with. Be patient with her. I saw this among survivors of Azanulbizar.” Taken off guard, Thorin hissed as he was reminded. “Yes. Nightmares, flashbacks, fear of being touched. I know you’ve continued to have them. But it doesn’t hurt as badly as it did a few decades ago, does it?”

“No.” Thorin shuddered. “Time is kind in that way.”

“It will treat Bella just as kindly. Especially once she can acknowledge it happened, and accept she was not to blame. Some victims do.”

Barely able to keep his fingers moving, Thorin nodded heavily. “She does.” Óin drew in a deep breath and swallowed twice before continuing.

“Then tell her she is not at fault. As long as she wants to listen.” Óin dabbed at the corners of his eyes and drew back from Thorin, patting his King on the shoulder. “And take care of yourself, lad. We all need time to heal.”

“Alas, time is not on our side for this journey. Durin’s Day fast approaches. Please ask Kíli to come and speak to me.”

“At once.” His eyes were burning. Of course Bella would have some of the same reactions he had. Thinking on his nightmares the past months, he wondered how she did not wake screaming after what she had been through, but was distracted as Kíli threw himself to the bench, arms folded over his chest, looking at Thorin from the corner of his eye.

“Is this about Bella? Did I scare her?”

“You did, but that’s what I wanted to tell you. She reacted that way because…” Kíli’s face was already tensing, and Thorin had to stop, and knew he was terrifying his nephew. “Kíli, please look at me. This is nothing to do with you. Bella isn’t angry, and I think the laughter you and she share has helped her.”

“Then what? Was she hurt badly? Is she angry at me?”

“Her ribs never fully recovered from the trolls, and the fall she took and defending me have done her no favors. But it was not the physical pain that made her flinch away from you, Kíli.” And as he explained, Thorin held tight to Kíli’s hand, watching the young dwarf absorb the tale, but Kíli pulled away when the truth was revealed, leaping to his feet, hiding behind his hair.

“But I…I touched her! She…how can she ever look at me again, Uncle?”

“Kíli, she understands you didn’t know! And you were more than kind to her. It’s why she wanted me to tell you, so you understood why she reacted the way she did.”

“I don’t want to believe it.” Kíli whispered, his voice ragged, staring off into the shadows before glancing down at his uncle. “She’s been so kind to me. To all of us, even when we were teasing her or you were being…” His voice trailed off as Thorin felt his eyebrows knit, and he tried to relax his face. No one present deserved his anger, but it boiled in his gut, begging for a target.

“I have her forgiveness for all I did, though I am not sure I deserve it.”

“What do we do now?”

“We continue to face forward, and help her do the same.”

“I think I still have some pipeweed from her stores.” Aimlessly, Kíli’s fingers plucked at his belt, thumbs caressing the buckle with his sigil. “And maybe I can teach her how to fight in a group so she will feel safer as we journey onward.”

“I’m sure she would like that, Kíli. And continue to talk with her.”

“And no more teasing.” Dark eyes met Thorin’s as Kíli’s voice wavered. “Do you think she wanted to leave and didn’t because we told her about the Orcs and Wargs?”

“I don’t think so, Kíli. No.”

“Then if being with us is better for Bella for now, I will do my best.” Kíli turned.

“Please ask Ori to come over here, sister son.”

“Yes, Uncle.” But he didn’t move for a moment, then glanced over his shoulder. “Are you all right?”

“I think I will be. Thank you, Kíli.” The young dwarf stumbled before he hesitantly approached Ori, who was looking very nervous perched by Balin’s side, and the little scribe swallowed heavily before glancing over at his King. Thorin watched, trying to keep his face neutral. Ori had not been his choice, but Nori and Dori would never leave their brother behind, and Balin was fond of the boy. But he had not been trained as a fighter like the Princes, and until the fight from Goblin-town had proven them all wrong, Thorin had regretted allowing the youngster to sign. But Ori had proven himself almost as much as Bella to the rest of them, and as he squared his shoulders and walked towards Thorin, the King acknowledged the bravery it took not to look frightened after seeing the reactions of the others and not knowing what Thorin was saying. “Thorin.”

“Sit, Ori.” Voice low, to try and keep from spooking the boy, Thorin wondered how to proceed. “Have you heard anything?”

“Just denial. What is it? Are we abandoning the Quest?”

“No! No, we will see Erebor one day, Ori. But I have something to tell you about Bella.”

“Does she want it to be known?” Ori’s mouth became a firm line as he glared up at Thorin.

“Yes. She asked me to tell you.”

“Is it something…” He cleared his throat and flushed, tugging at his sleeves. “What I mean is, is she all right?” Thorin floundered.

“Not at the moment. But she will be, I hope.”

“What happened? Was she hurt worse than we thought in our escape?”

“It happened thirty years ago.” Ori narrowed his eyes but fell silent as Thorin explained, giving the scribe more details than he had the others, things Bella had whispered as he held her close. “She was young, traveling. Along the same path we ourselves took to Bree. Three male hobbits found her. And they raped her. She escaped but she was blamed and held apart, considered unfit for marriage and left alone.” Keening, Ori covered his mouth and nose with his hands, shoving back from Thorin and smacking into the wall. Thorin dropped his gaze and nudged at the mug at his feet, then with a snarl smashed it under his boot with a quick movement. Gasping for breath, Ori grabbed Thorin’s sleeve and Thorin heard the suppressed tears.

“Why? Why would she want me to know?”

“Because she thought she had scared us, with how she was acting tonight.”

“She shouldn’t have. Why didn’t you…?” Ori drew back, face crumpling for a brief moment. “You wouldn’t tell her no, would you?”

“Would you?”

“No. But…I don’t understand why.”

“Because she has grown to trust you all. I have listened to you both talk of history and lore, and believe me when I say that you’ve probably done more to make her feel safe than any of us. I think this is her way of demonstrating she has changed.” Ori nodded, dabbing at his cheeks, and rose abruptly, rushing from Thorin and sitting by himself at the table, ignoring Dori until the older dwarf moved away, glaring at Thorin. Thorin dropped his eyes to the shards of clay on the floor, wishing he had kept his temper and knowing there was no easy outlet for the rage that rested beneath his collarbone and threatened to choke him.

Soft footsteps scraped along the stone and Thorin looked up, his neck and head aching, and met Balin’s gentle gaze. “Whatever it is you’re telling them, laddie, it’s causing no end of trouble. What are you doing to us?”

“What is necessary.” Trying to regain some shred of composure, Thorin pressed the heel of his palm into his forehead before leaning against the wall. “Will you join me, old friend?” Balin hesitated but settled on the low bench, his hands folded on his stomach beneath his beard.

“I presume this involves Bella. I’ve heard nothing but her name this night.” There was a vise around his throat. It took him long moments to regain the power of speech, staring down at the scratches along his fingers that had started to scab and would probably leave scars before they healed.

“She…I spoke to her after our conversation this morn. And she asked me to tell you that I was right.” Balin started forward, grabbing Thorin’s arm above his elbow.

“No.”

“She was cast aside. It’s why she came with us.”

“I had hoped you were wrong.” There was just enough light to see the silver tracks of tears on Balin’s cheeks. “Brave lass. Brave, brave lass.” The old dwarf released Thorin and turned away, shoulders shaking. “Where is she? Is she safe?”

“She is sleeping. She was exhausted after we spoke. I am surprised she made it through dinner, to be honest with you.”

“Mahal.” Balin rubbed at his eyes. “As am I.”

“You were right. I should have listened to you.”

“I knew she was hiding something in her past, from her evasions and reluctance to speak, but I never…never could have conceived of such a thing. She is so kind.”

“Yes.”

“One of the cleverest minds I have ever met, and she was just locked away. No wonder Gandalf looks at her as he does, why he insisted on her.” Lips pressed closed, Balin shook his head as he wiped at his eyes, and when he spoke again, his voice was rough. “She will stay with us?”

“I can only hope. I made the offer already.”

“Then you have done a few things right.” Fondness tinged the older dwarf’s words and Thorin knew Balin was trying to distract himself. “Good. And now your behavior becomes clear. My brother was upset with you.”

“He had reason to be, but I needed to make sure no one would try anything until they knew.”

“And yourself? Don’t shake your head at me, lad. I know you too well. I saw how you looked at her in Rivendell.” Thorin tried to snarl but there was no heat left to him in the face of Balin’s piercing eye.

“I will not deny my attraction to her, but I would not dream of trying to act on it now. She has too much to try and overcome without me suddenly attempting to court her.”

“Court?” Balin coughed, thumping his chest and tugging at his beard. “Mahal’s forges! I should hope not, Thorin.”

“I misspoke.” Thorin flushed. “I explained _sanzarira_ to her and I have many things to think about, Balin.” But Balin’s glare did not subside for a long moment.

“As do we all. And now that we do know, we will face forward together to the upcoming trials. Or do you think Mirkwood will be a simple jaunt?”

“Of course I don’t.” Grunting, Thorin stood and staggered as his legs cramped, but caught himself without help. “And I have not lost my focus on our home. But now we can leave here a Company in truth.” Balin nodded agreement and Thorin stepped into the candlelight around the table, meeting everyone’s eyes briefly. “My friends, let us sleep now. Tomorrow we must prepare many things for the next stage of the journey, and I think we all need some time resting.” Nods greeted his words, but no one else spoke as they made their way back towards the next room. Thorin kicked his boots aside and set Orcrist within easy reach before pillowing his head and drawing the heavy wool blankets close. Effort was made to give the curtains that hid their burglar a wider berth than the previous night, and Thorin was not the only one to leave a weapon close to hand. He slept lightly, unable to relax, and heard whimpering close by, his eyes going straight to his nephews, but they both appeared untroubled.

Heart sinking, the King found his eyes going to the curtains and a fresh cascade of whimpers struck him as he leaned forward and pushed one of the sheets aside to see Bella, her face contorted and limbs tangled in her blankets, struggling and panting between inarticulate cries. Before he could think, Thorin leaned forward and carefully freed her arms, then put his hands on her soft shoulders and whispered her name. Bella woke slowly, panting and crying, and the moment her eyes cleared Thorin released her, his heart heavy in his chest as she scrubbed at her eyes, looking around as if she did not recognize her surroundings. “Bella, you’re safe.” The look of pure relief she gave him was a kick to his stomach and he could see how her sweat had soaked through her shirt and blankets. She grimaced and kept her eyes on her feet, her voice low as she plucked at her damp shirt, and Thorin knew she would sleep better for a quick bath, offering his arm again. And she did not flinch from him. Heart thudding irregularly, Thorin watched as she turned her head left and right, eyes tense. “Can you see at all?”

“I can see you and the floor.” Trying to imagine what such limited vison would be like, Thorin glanced around, the dim light from the moon more than enough to show him the walls of the lodge.

“Do you mean that every night we were in the woods you couldn’t see past the firelight? And under the Mountains?”

“Of course not! You all can?” And that she hadn't known they could see into the dark to help protect her hurt Thorin enough that he had to stop for a brief moment before continuing. No wonder the woods had frightened her.

“We live beneath the earth. We can’t see in total darkness, but we need little light to show us our path. How did you get out?”

“Carefully.” She shuddered and Thorin hissed at himself for reminding her of her fear. “Do they know?” The mingled relief and sorrow that flashed across her face hurt, but Thorin watched her smile slightly as he told her of Dori’s promise for vengeance, and as she stepped into the bathing chamber he leaned against the wall. The chiding from the Company rang in his ears, but they had missed the mark. He was not paying her special attention just because of her bravery facing Azog, though he could understand why many thought so. Even before they had reached Rivendell she had attracted him, for all he had fought against it with all his strength. He had placed her well being above his sister-son’s, had surrendered to trolls to keep her alive. She had become his greatest weakness, but not through any fault of hers. He heard splashing and took a shaky breath as she reappeared, her smile grateful as she shook her damp hair from her shoulders, begging for his hands, but he clenched his fists to remind him of his own pain as she whispered. “Thank you for waiting.”

“I could not just leave you.” Thorin forced his voice into friendly interest, watching the way her hand clung to his sleeve. He could not think of anything to say as he helped her clamber back onto the mattress, but tried to speak as she stared up at him, her large eyes shining, but finally bowed to her. And her answering smile kept him warm as he finally closed his eyes.


	9. Chapter 9

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> The morning after the Company learns of Bella's history, they begin to truly welcome their burglar to the family.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> You're all so lovely. Thank you all for your comments and support.

There were birds singing in his ear. Thorin woke with a start and stared up at the high ceiling, the beams swimming into focus as he blinked himself awake. He had slept deeper than he had meant to, and a sudden suspicion bloomed dark. Óin had handed him the last tankard at dinner, and Dori had fussed with the tea longer than usual. Wiping at his face, Thorin glanced around and found he was alone, until a soft sigh from behind the hanging sheets told him Bella slept still. Good. Let her rest. Moving as quietly as he could, Thorin buckled on his sword and pulled his jacket on slowly, gritting his teeth against the bruises on his ribs, and carried his boots to the doorway before putting them on and leaving Bella to her dreams. He could only remember lying down after helping Bella to the bathing chamber, and cursed Óin again. What if someone had needed him, or the lodge had been attacked? They all thought him stubborn for refusing herbs, but he had seen the drugged and wounded die when the cave they were in had to be abandoned quickly during the long war leading towards Azanulbizar. Shaking the memory, Thorin entered the dining hall and stopped short, seeing the lumbering form of their host and the robed wizard seated with the rest of the Company, the table covered in food. Thorin shot Óin a glare but the healer just smiled and turned back to his plate.

“Ah, Master Dwarf!” Thorin finally took in the changed appearance of the dining hall. The shutters and walls had been folded back and they now looked out onto one of the gardens past the veranda. And on the lawn stood two stout poles, surmounted with the head of a goblin and a Warg, the blood and ichor staining the grass. “I went hunting last night. Those two confirmed your story.”

“You did not even believe Gandalf?” Beorn snorted and Thorin couldn’t help the smile on his face as the Wizard sniffed and sipped at his tea. There was a seat waiting for him at Beorn’s right hand, across from Gandalf, and he sat with relief, casting a brief glare at Óin before turning back to their host. As far as he could tell, the old healer was most amused with himself, and Thorin swore he would never take food or drink from another hand ever again. Especially if Óin was anywhere in the vicinity.

“I have found, living east of the Mountains, that to rely on anyone is asking for trouble. But because you killed the Great Goblin, I am more than happy to help you on your way. My ponies will carry you to Mirkwood, and I will open my kitchens to you, and my stores. But they will not take one step into those woods.” Thorin bowed his head. Even a few days on horseback would gain them precious time, and though he grieved they had to walk into Mirkwood, he could see this was not negotiable. Beorn nodded decisively at Thorin’s silent acceptance. “And where is the little bunny? The Wizard said she would like to have some time in the kitchen.”

“She is still sleeping.” Gandalf peered over the rim of his cup at Thorin, and the dwarf fought to keep his voice from growling. This skin changer might be helping them, but Bella was theirs now. They should be looking after her, finding things to make her happy. But there was no way to explain that to someone not a dwarf. “She has been through a tiring few days.”

“Of course.”

“Not to mention wounded. Has she been seen to?” Gandalf’s voice was perfectly neutral, but all the dwarves stilled, and Thorin very deliberately put his hands on the table before answering, to keep them from Orcrist’s hilt.

“She needed some time to herself. We are keeping a close eye on her, and the moment she feels ready, we will take care of her.” Gandalf lowered his mug to the table, the ceramic rattling on the wood before he stopped it from falling to the floor. Thorin drew in a labored breath, seeing the sudden pain in the old man’s eyes. Of course Gandalf would know the hobbit’s past; perhaps not every detail, but he had known her since she was a child. King and wizard stared at the other, both nodding before Beorn launched into his tale of hunting down the trophies he had gathered. Thorin never tired of hearing of goblins or Wargs killed, and Beorn’s energy was a good change for them all. He heard several chuckle as the skin changer described grappling with the foul beast, clearly exaggerating the struggle, but it was pleasant to have something simple to focus on this morning.

Beorn was just reaching the denouncement of the hasty interrogation of his prisoners when Gandalf glanced behind Thorin and straightened, a fond smile creasing his face, and a hush fell over the gathering. Thorin turned in time to see Bella hesitating underneath the pillars, every line of her body tense. Beorn greeted her merrily, and her cautious approach and slow blooming smile had Thorin hoping she was feeling better before he froze in horror as she was swept into the air, her face draining of color and her eyes squeezing shut. And Thorin could not move. She had been theirs for less than a day, and he had already failed her. His hand went to his sword and he heard Dwalin cursing from down the table, knowing many of them had only knives at the moment, and Kíli had left his bow with their gear. Moving faster than thought, Gandalf was suddenly at Beorn’s side, hands reaching for Bella and swinging her to the ground where she knelt, eyes still closed. She was on her feet and stumbling away from them, hand over her stomach and her body curled inward, before any of her dwarves could move.

Beorn watched her go, his face sad, but turned back to his meal as though nothing had happened. Thorin finally moved forward, hand clenching Orcrist and all his anger pouring from him as he confronted the skin changer. “How could you think she would welcome such a thing? Do you think just because you are bigger than her it gives you the right to take control? Or is it because she appears gentle. I notice you did not try and hoist Ori into the air like he was a pet.”

“Peace, Master Dwarf.” Beorn held up his hands, leaning back in his large chair. “I have never met one of her kind and it is hard not to treat her as a child. Why, even you tower above her by a head or so!” And that the skin changer would dare remind Thorin of how perfectly Bella molded to his body filled him with rage, his voice dropping as he took two deliberate steps forward.

“See that you do not touch her again. We appreciate your help but I will not see her harmed.” Balin cleared his throat, just loudly enough for Thorin to hear, and the King fell silent, turning to find a clean plate and glass as his councilor moved forward and began to explain to their host, in vague terms, why Bella was so important to them and why she needed space now. Thorin knew himself well enough that if he opened his mouth now, they would lose all chance at restoring themselves before Mirkwood, and though his heart raced, he kept his bile contained. The rest of the Company held themselves silently, their eyes tight as Balin saved them. Gandalf joined in the conversation, and it seemed their host was mollified. But the skin changer would not come near Bella again without having to step over the Company. They owed her that much, after failing her.

Biscuits, honey and milk found their way to Thorin’s hands, and he left the dining hall, but did not find Bella in the next chamber or the next, and hovered indecisively at the entrance to the veranda when a large dog appeared and sat, clearly wondering why a lone dwarf wandered with food. “I am looking for the hobbit. She needs to eat.” The dog stood and turned back into the building, and Thorin sighed as he realized there was only one place his guide could be leading him to. He should have thought of it himself.

Bella was curled against one of the river rock pillars, face buried in her hands and hair falling over her shoulders, trembling. With a whine, Thorin’s guide stared at the hobbit before disappearing on silent paws. Thorin set his meager offering close by and turned to go when Bella’s tremulous voice begged him not to leave, and he was helpless to resist. She ate slowly, but he saw how she savored the meal, watched her fight and hide her terror.

She must have had to learn such skills quickly, to survive among those who mocked her for her pain. Thorin wanted to demand to know every name of those who had hurt her, but his words from last night came to him as he watched her run her finger over the crumbs, delicately finishing every last morsel. Empty threats meant nothing, solved nothing. Instead, he would offer help. And her request to learn to use her little sword pleased him more than he would have thought. But perhaps there was another reason. When she whispered her fear of being out of control, her voice breaking, Thorin finally understood. “We should have offered you lessons sooner than this.”

“We cannot change the past. All we can do is face forward. That is what you all say, is it not?”

“It is. Well remembered.” She smiled and ducked her head, glancing down at her feet. “I am sorry we let him touch you. I should have moved faster.”

“You’re hurt worse than I am. And he wasn’t going to hurt me.”

“How do we know that? He looks at you like one of his dogs. Little bunny…I dislike that name, and we all owe you an apology for letting him talk to you like that. Balin is explaining that to him, and if he treats you with such disrespect again we will not fail you.” Thorin watched as her lips parted, eyes blinking rapidly before she shook her head.

“I don’t understand.”

“Bella.” He knelt so their eyes were level, keeping his distance. “Just because he is bigger than you doesn’t mean you have to accept his treatment of you.” The dwarf could not think of the words to explain what she had done by giving him her secrets. Perhaps Balin could once again speak for his King. Her face crumpled as she looked at her feet and Thorin watched her fight her tears, but he could not touch her again. A long sigh escaped her and she looked at him, her lips tight at the corners but her gaze steady.

“I’ll try.”

“We’ll be right here with you.” She held out her hand and Thorin helped the small hobbit to the ground, and tried to move away, but she kept her small fingers on his and stared up at him. Her lips moved once or twice, but she said nothing, finally squeezing his hand and stepping back, running her hands over her golden waistcoat and clearing her throat.

“I need to change if we’re going to be training. Where should I meet you?” Thorin tried to remember how the gardens attached to the house, wanting to keep her from Beorn’s grisly trophies.

“The garden across from our sleeping chambers. The ground is level there.” She nodded and shifted back and forth as Thorin gathered the dishes and watched her poke her head hesitantly inside before she slipped away towards their beds. Her eyes had contained the ghost of a smile, and he wanted nothing more than to see a true smile on her face again before day’s end. Determined, the King made his way back to the dining hall, and as he stepped inside, a sheep was beside him in moments, taking the dishes from him in the blink of an eye. The rest of the Company sat finishing their meals, but Gandalf and Beorn were gone.

“How is the wee lass?” Balin glanced behind Thorin, looking for her, sighing when Thorin shook his head, but all brightened at his next words.

“She’d like a lesson using her sword. But we need to get ready to leave here.”

“I’ll take care of it, Uncle.” Fíli stood. “See to Bella now.” Thorin caught Dwalin’s eye and jerked his head. Dwalin nodded. He had undertaken the majority of the training for all the warriors in the Blue Mountains, and knew how to treat a beginner better than Thorin did. Everyone moved out to the veranda, where Dwalin paced the field and found the smoothest ground while Thorin raided the woodpile for three drying branches, trimming one to the length of Bella’s sword, leaving the other two longer, close to an Orc’s blade.

Meanwhile, Fíli was organizing an inventory, laying out their bags and speaking with Bombur about food supplies. Kíli sat nearby, going over his arrows and pulling off the arrowheads from broken shafts and cutting the fletching with a small knife his mother had gifted him, the hilt wrapped in golden wire that created a web over onyx. It was good to be reminded of Dis, who must be thinking them closer to the Mountain that they already were. Thorin’s only hope of sending her a message was that the ravens had somehow survived the long years, and that they retained their knowledge of the common tongue. Otherwise, he might have to choose one or two of the Company to make the long journey twice more, and to put such demands on them felt unfair.  

He hefted one of the branches and swung it back and forth, finding a rough balance, when the chattering dwarves fell silent. Bella stood in the doorway, her hair swept up in an inelegant knot and her clothes showing the stains of several months of travel, but it was the absence of tension that held Thorin’s eye. He had never seen her shoulders held without a defensive tightness, and it was only seeing it gone did he realize how long it had been there. Hesitant steps brought her closer, many of her companions nodding as she walked by. Thorin realized he was staring and closed his mouth as she stopped some distance from him, her eyes going to the stick in his hand. “We’re going to start without blades just for now. Don’t want you getting hurt.”

“That makes sense.” She unsheathed her sword and Thorin held out his hand for it, grasping the hilt and finally taking a closer look at the workmanship.

“What did Balin call this? A letter opener? Old friend, this is beautiful work. You were wrong to mock it.” Balin grinned from where he sat mending broken straps with Dori, using an awl borrowed from their host’s stores.

“We were in Rivendell at the time. I couldn’t praise it there, laddie!”

“Aye, especially after they rolled their eyes at Bofur’s songs.” Nori snickered, his clever hands never stopping as they fixed the blades that had been notched on goblin armor. “And I think they tried to spy on us bathing.”

“They would never!” With a squawk, Ori fell from his perch where he sat chronicling their quest, his cheeks red. Bella looked puzzled but Thorin was still chuckling at the argument that had broken out, cheerful insults and mock abuse slung from all sides. But he mastered himself when he remembered that she would not understand.

“While the elves saw to your care we bathed in one of their fountains.” She snorted, hand covering her mouth and nose as her eyes crinkled closed. Her muffled giggles were good to hear again. “Here is your weapon.” She accepted the short stick and Thorin lay her sword next to his on a nearby bench, shucking his coat and trying not to groan as his bruises and stitches protested again. He knew Óin was watching. Dwalin finally walked over and guided Bella through simple exercises, helping her limber up and practice her footwork.

She was as graceful as she had ever been; Thorin remembered how she had moved through her home, feeding him and silently saying goodbye as they carelessly trod mud into her carpets and mocked her delicate belongings. But she was hesitant, each swing of her stick lacking the conviction she would need in true battle. Dwalin tugged at his beard before telling Thorin to face her, and they began to show her how to spar. “Hands here, Bella! Else you’ll be disarmed with one blow.” Moving at half speed, Thorin demonstrated, gratified when her wrists finally firmed and she countered his blow with a sharp rap of her stick, her eyes lighting up as he stepped back to recover, as though the blow had contained more force.

“Oh!” Thorin couldn’t help the laugh that seemed to bubble from his chest, and she joined in after a moment, her smile lighting her face brighter than he had seen in months. He held her eyes with his own as he spoke.

“Just like that, _ghi_ …Bella. That’s what will help you keep their blade away from the center of your body.” They went again, increasing their speed until the loud clack of wood on wood filled the clearing. Though he did not press her too hard, he made her work to keep his sword from her, and was astonished to see her using the correct steps already. Dwalin was beaming, shouting corrections but staying farther from her than he might another student. She stumbled after blocking a particularly hard blow; Thorin stopped immediately, fetching them both water and towels to wipe their faces, and she sat on the grass with a grateful smile.

“This is tiring.”

“Good. That means you’re working hard.” Thorin handed her the towel and forced his gaze away from how her hair curled in small tendrils on her neck, looking entirely soft and as though it would twine around his fingers without thought. When he glanced back, she took a deep breath and wiggled her shoulders, twisting her neck side to side and clambering back to her feet.

“Dwalin looks impatient.”

“Dwalin has no other look.” Thorin listened to Dwalin grumble, but suddenly Nori was standing nearby, one of his knives in his hand.

“There’s a few things you’re overlooking, both of you.”

“What’s that?” Dwalin folded his arms over his chest, scowling, but Bella looked interested and Bella was as much Nori’s as either of theirs, so Thorin stayed quiet.

“Bella is much shorter than you both. She’s not going to be striking out from her core, she’s always going to be aiming up unless she’s fighting another hobbit.” Nori demonstrated and Dwalin nodded slowly.

“You’re right.” Bella blinked as Nori turned to her with an easy grin, and that she returned it after a moment twisted Thorin’s heart. He wanted her smiles for himself, but to even think such a thing could not be. She was not his, she was theirs to love and take hold of, to turn into a warrior and protect as a sister. And watching her mimic Nori made him realize how small she really was. Why she loomed larger in his mind’s eye confused the King for a moment, but he was pulled back to the present when Nori stopped and nodded, giving the panting hobbit a broad grin.

“I think you have a better idea now. Thieves must stick together, Bella.” Thorin scowled before he could stop himself; Bella was no poacher! But she laughed again, and Nori waved Kíli over with a quick command.

“Now see how you do against Kíli. Full speed.” Kíli smirked and darted to Thorin’s side, snatching the makeshift sword and spinning to face a very startled Bella. But her hands came up and she diverted the first blow, circling her new opponent, protecting her head and belly first before launching her own attack. It was breathtaking to see and the entire Company ceased their activity to shout their approval and encouragement.

With a beautiful roll, Bella ducked under a slow swing and sprang back to her feet, landing a blow on Kíli’s arm and jumping back, hand covering her mouth. “Kíli! I’m sorry.” The young dwarf fell to his knees and bellowed as though he were in pain, falling to his back and crying for Fíli to come avenge him. Bella finally realized she hadn’t hurt him and joined in the laughter as Kíli’s antics grew more ridiculous, but Fíli’s serious answer cast a hush over all of them as they listened.

It was the first time they were openly laying claim to her, twining her into their family, and Thorin held his breath. As far as he knew, no being not a dwarf had ever been named as such. Tears shone in her eyes as Fíli spoke _,_ her throat bobbing and her knuckles whitening on her makeshift sword. Thorin pressed his lips together, unsure of what to say, and she turned her eyes to him with a tiny gasp. “Again, Miss Baggins.” She held her training sword in front of her, and he allowed the familiar motions of sparring to calm his mind. But finally she stumbled again and he stopped, helping her to her feet and calling an end to training for now.

“Thank you. At least next time I’ll look a little more dangerous.”

“You looked plenty frightening.” Dori handed her cold water and suddenly Bifur arrived with a small handful of flowers, the yellows and pinks and reds as vibrant as any jewel Thorin had ever seen. Bella accepted them with a becoming flush, burying her face in them and greedily inhaling.

“Oh, thank you Bifur! I haven’t taken the time to explore the gardens yet.” Bifur smiled and bowed as he backed away, Bofur translating for his cousin with a fond smile.

“He says they remind him of your garden and thought you might enjoy their beauty.”

“I will.” She clutched them to her chest, beaming. “I’d weave them in my hair now but I feel disgusting. And I still don’t know where the bathing chamber is.” Thorin’s heart came close to strangling him as Bella’s eyes turned his way. “I know you know where it is, Thorin.”

“Does he?” Balin scowled. “And how do you come by this knowledge, Bella?”

“Very funny, Halfling.” Her laugh rang out over the gardens, clear as the bells of Dale. Thorin shook his head. “Do you require my guidance once more?”

“I think I will trust to it this time. Since you owe me a favor for finding the elves’ kitchen.”

“I do, at that.”

“I could do with a splash myself.” Dwalin kicked Thorin’s ankle. “Lead on.” Bella held out her hand and Thorin offered his arm, the small weight of her hand too familiar by far, and Bifur made several comments as they left that Thorin was more than grateful she couldn’t understand, most threats against Thorin’s health if their burglar took offense at his actions. He kept his eyes forward, knowing the old dwarf was probably teasing, reminding them all of their new obligation to protect her until she didn’t need them. It might be easier if he could see her as a young dwarf, still in training and unready to stand alone, but for her people she was well into her middle years and he could not countenance the thought of making her feel less in any way. Nor could he pretend she was not growing more and more desirable by the moment. When they reached the large door, Dwalin shouldered the door open and pulled it shut, allowing Thorin a moment to recover his breath.

He could still feel her gentle touch on his arm, thanking him for finally showing her she could defend herself. And how badly he had wanted to return her thanks with a kiss. He couldn’t believe he was falling for a hobbit on the most important journey of his life, but some of his mother’s last advice rang in his head. There was never a good time for losing one’s heart; wisdom lay in accepting it and letting it grow before acting on such feelings. She would have liked Bella, he was sure. The thought of the two of them meeting was enough to make him smile as he flexed his right hand, seeing the cuts and scabs leaving their pink spider webs on his skin as they healed. He would still be injured when they left for Mirkwood, but able to walk and fight. Now his concern was their burglar, for he could not leave here until knowing she would be safe on the next leg of the journey. But he could feel Erebor over his shoulder even standing inside the lodge. Dwalin stood nearby and glared over at his King, slipping into Khuzdul. “You watch her more than ever, now. I have never seen you like this.”

“Had I met someone so brave before, you might have. She still needs protection. Her nerves are raw and she needs time. I cannot give her much, but she will have all that we can give her.”

“And what will we tell her?”

“There is much she needs to learn if she is to be my trusted young guard. Tonight, at dinner, if our host is not there, perhaps you and your brother could begin her lessons. She trusts you implicitly.”

“I will see if he is willing. She’s come to represent…” Dwalin coughed, grimacing and turning his head away before composing himself, falling into silence. Thorin knew what he had meant to say, and stayed silent. As unlikely a daughter as  _shomakhîth_ , Bella had truly become one of the Company, and Thorin could only hope she might come to understand the import of their actions. Suddenly the large door creaked and they heard Bella’s breathless laugh from behind the thick wood.

“Can you help me? This place is a hobbit trap!” Dwalin and Thorin both lurched forward, putting their hands on the door at the same time and pushing, hearing a startled exclamation as they shoved into the bathing chamber and found Bella pressed against the wall, hand over her heart and her eyes wide. Recognizing their mistake, Thorin backed into the corridor, allowing her to step outside after she collected herself. Dwalin shot Thorin a grin, shaking his head and grumbling about hasty dwarves, but the warrior hid his smile as Bella emerged. Her hair was beautiful with the flowers woven into her loose bun, if showing some damage from their travels, and Thorin wished he had the powders and vinegars to restore her locks. There was a comb of silver in his belongings that would look beautiful running through the length of the honey brown mass. He realized he was staring when Dwalin cleared his throat loud enough to make Bella jump. Thinking quickly, he spoke before the silence could stretch.

“You did well today. If we continue your lessons, I think we will see you become a warrior in truth.”

“I suppose we’ll see.” Her smile was impish as she cocked her head to one side, the hobbit who stole food from elves and teased wizards emerging. “Though I have only managed to smack Kíli with a stick. A real blade in my hands would only frighten the Sackville-Baggins at this point.”

“Many more than that, I think.” Dwalin nudged Thorin heavily and the king closed his mouth quickly. “Your pack is with the others. We fixed what we could but you should go over it and let us know what we might find for you.”

“A good suggestion, Mister Dwalin.” She nodded to them both before leaving, and Thorin wondered if she had used lavender soap, but the scent was gone in a moment. Dwalin barred the door and shucked his tunic before turning to glare at Thorin.

“Look at her like that again and I won’t bother telling my brother.”

“There was no looking.” Thorin turned and was spun back around, Dwalin’s face set.

“There was, and if I see it again, I will not give you another warning. Mahal’s forges, Thorin!”

“So the rest of you can take her into your hearts, but I cannot?” Thorin growled back, feeling the muscles of his neck tensing as he pushed Dwalin away from him. “I am not the one who was competing for her attention on the journey here. After all you went through to get Bofur, too.”

“That has nothing to do with her. And that you would say such a thing proves my point.” Dwalin turned. “You explained that it would be her choice only if she wished to share a night with one of us?”

“Of course.”

“Then not a word. No taking advantage of her ignorance of our ways, which I will be doing my best to correct, and stop pretending Balin and I never talk. You confessed your desires to him long ago.”

“Desires I have not acted upon out of concern for her. But if you are to judge me every time I look at her, she will become the wedge she did not wish to be. You know me better than this, Dwalin. I am no hobbit, no human.” Dwalin let out a long breath and brought his forehead to Thorin’s, clasping their hands together.

“You’re right. She’s not just mine.”

“I think we all feel the same way. It’s strange to suddenly have new family.” Dwalin nodded and the two dwarves rinsed themselves in silence, toweling dry and going to the bedroom half bare when they heard a squeak. Bella turned away from them, what they could see of her face red, and Dwalin and Thorin stared at the other until Dwalin cleared his throat.

“Apologizes, lass. Thought you’d be at the table by now.”

“I forgot...doesn’t matter. Beorn’s sheep made dinner for you all.” She turned and walked past them, eyes staring straight ahead, and the two dwarves nearly tripped over the other in their attempt to get out of her way. She had been wearing a very fine waistcoat of dark green brocade that matched her eyes. Taking a deep breath, Thorin went to his bedroll to grab another tunic when he saw the cloth she wore around her neck sometimes tucked halfway under his own blankets. Knowing it had been what she was looking for, Thorin tucked it into his belt after changing. It was thin, and he couldn’t imagine that such a small thing helped her stay warm, but clearly it held great import if she would leave the food to try and begin a search.

“If she tells the others, we’re dead before we sit down.”

“I expect you to fulfill your oath, then.” Thorin threw his hair over his shoulder and glanced over at Dwalin, who was adjusting his braces and tugging his furs into place.

“And where will you run after I’m down?”

“To Bella and beg for her mercy, if Mahal favors me.”

“Did she say sheep?” They stepped out into the hall, staring at the bounty of food awaiting them. Knowing that Beorn shared the oddest of peculiarities with the elves, Thorin never would have guessed such a feast might be in the offing and suspected the hobbit had worked more of her magic. Bowls of stew steamed at each setting, and more savory treats lined the center of the long table. Everyone was staring impatiently, and Thorin wondered why they had not started eating until he sat near Fíli and Kíli, letting Dwalin join his brother and Bella.

“Now we can start. Height of bad manners to eat without all present.” Bella shook out a napkin of fine wool and tucked it into her shirt, taking a bite of stew before Balin nodded solemnly and the others followed her example. Thorin stared at Fíli, who was dipping bread into his bowl and raised an inquiring eyebrow.

“Do you mean to tell me that she told you all to wait and you listened?”

“If that is my sister’s custom, of course I will obey.” Fíli took a huge bite and grinned. “I think she tried to do this the night we met her, but we did not listen.”

“Leaving me with nothing but thin soup. No wonder she was displeased, if this is what she considers a proper meal.” Thorin closed his eyes as the flavors filled his mouth, complex and filling, and sighed around his spoon. “I can’t even tell it doesn’t contain meat.”

“We must give her a proper larder so you can see that she can cook better than this. Smoked ham, venison, salmon.” Kíli piped up from Thorin’s elbow, setting his bowl down on the table, already empty.

“We’ll give her whatever she deems necessary to pursue her craft.” Thorin finally spoke, his other hand dropping to his belt to touch her neck covering. “If we are able.” Luckily, the food was a distraction for his nephews and they let him be.

Balin, Dwalin and Bofur were sitting around Bella, all of them smoking their pipes and enjoying a tankard of mead as the elder dwarf spoke too quietly to be overheard. Judging by her open astonishment, the little hobbit was trying to understand her friend’s new attitudes. Thorin jerked his eyes back to his food and listened to Kíli’s teasing of his brother. But suddenly Balin cleared his throat, speaking loudly enough to be heard. “Our new sister should hear this from more than one mouth.”

“Aye.” Glóin rumbled, raising his tankard.

“The wee lass needs to learn what being a member of this Company means.” Óin smiled and Bella returned it, her faced bemused.

“Of course.” Thorin met her eyes and held them. “I can think of no other way to welcome her to the family.”

“But you already have.” Bella glanced around the table, shaking her head.  

“Lass, if you think so, it only shows how much you have to learn.” Bofur cast a glance up at Dwalin before continuing, his warm smile encompassing them all. “We have barely begun to welcome you in truth.”

“You were all so kind.” Thorin gritted his teeth as Dwalin protested her words, joined by Bifur and Bombur with equal fervor. Suddenly Dori was standing on the bench and shouting them all into silence, turning to Bella and clenching his fist over his heart before bowing.

“We have gone about this all wrong. Bella. We, these thirteen dwarves you see now, have heard your history. Would you like to hear ours, and join our family?” Watching Bella’s face go from confusion to sorrow had Thorin’s throat closing on any words he might have wanted to say, and her quick nod and crumpling face, buried into trembling hands, robbed him of all. Balin opened his arms as she fell into him, and the old dwarf hugged her close, bending his head over her and whispering until her shoulders stopped shaking.

“I would be honored, Dori.” She glanced around at them all, her eyes lighting on Thorin. “I did not know how else to approach this than ask Thorin to tell you all, so you would understand why I…why everything.”

“And we wept for you, Bella.” Balin left his arm around her and she leaned into him, closing her eyes. “Thorin told you how we see such acts, yes?” She nodded and Dwalin spoke after it was obvious his brother could not.

“But he did not tell you many things about us.” Dwalin shot Thorin a glare before draping an arm over Bofur’s shoulders and pulling the shorter dwarf closer.

“Things he would not imagine you might not know.” Balin resumed easily, wiping at her cheeks with his napkin. “Such as our own fear at being taken from the group by our King. Such actions generally precede a judgment. But I have had time to think on it, and that we suffered alone, away from our family and friends, even for a few moments gave each of us the smallest inkling of your own pain.”

“You truly are a family." Bella sniffled and cleared her throat. "I had no idea that you would not...think less of me. But Thorin's reaction should have showed me that you are truly unlike my own people. I have never felt this sense of belonging since I was very young.”

The rest of the meal was spent telling her what she should expect of them, and what her duties as _shomakhîth_ might entail. Dori tried once to say that the title might be considered more a formality and Ori growled his older brother into silence, saying that Bella had already fulfilled the greatest duty by standing between Thorin and death alone. Many toasts were sent her way after that, and Dori eyed Ori with open astonishment before clapping the young dwarf on the shoulder and pouring him more mead, to Nori’s obvious delight. Thorin stayed quiet for most of the conversation, letting the others talk, aware he had had more chance than most to get to see the hobbit behind the mask she had been wearing for most their journey. And as the merriment continued, his fingers tangled in her neck wrap without thought, wondering how he might return it and enjoying the simple pleasure of familial conversation.

 

Thorin could not sleep, but he did not feel an urgency to get more rest. He had left the Company early, mostly to avoid another drugged night at Óin’s hands, and the rest of the dwarves had trickled in some time before, their snores quiet in the large space. Yet one had not joined them. After the last few days she probably needed time to just be, but the actions of their host left Thorin uneasy and he finally stood, finding his boots as he hefted Orcrist and went back into the dining hall. The shutters were barred with heavy beams Beorn himself had slotted into place, but the few scattered tapers revealed no hobbit. She would not be so foolhardy to venture outside, he was sure, and the vast stores and forge would hold no interest for the daughter of Yavanna. So he made his way to the kitchens, the great stoves banked but still warm, counters low enough for the dogs and sheep and other animals that called Beorn their father. Though the ceiling was too high, it had the energy of Bella’s small home and he was not surprised to see a blanketed form curled in front of the great fireplace, leaning against a tall basket of potatoes and holding a mug that filled both hands. “Bella?”

“Thorin.” She blinked up at him, and he saw the book lying near her feet, dark leather worn and unmarked. “Beorn has very old history of Gondor and said I could read it while I was here.”

“And you have already finished it?”

“No.” He could see the small bookmark now, a delicate leaf from the flowers Bifur had presented her, and smiled even as he sat across from her against a large barrel. “I should come to bed soon, but it felt like being home, sitting in front of a fire reading late into the night.”

“I was unable to sleep myself, and wanted to make sure you were all right.”

“Been sleeping too much lately.” She wiggled back against the basket, pulling the wool tighter around her shoulders, and stared into the fire. “I stopped reading because it got a battle, and now I know...books lie. They do not describe the fear.”

“No. All I knew of war when I was a lad was the sparring field and my histories, and my first fight was terrifying. Afterwards, my father told me it had been an easy one. He was proven correct, but I will never forget those first moments of fighting for my life.” Wondering if he was digging up unpleasant memories, Thorin instead found her nodding thoughtfully, and before he could stop himself, he kept talking. “That war was terrible. My brother died at Azanulbizar.” Bella’s eyes went wide and she leaned forward, her hand extending and Thorin briefly squeezed her fingers, turning his head from her to stare into the coals before closing his eyes. “We normally carve tombs for our dead. But there were so many…”

“You had to burn them. Balin told me how he burned his father that day.” Grateful beyond words he had not had to give voice to his memories, Thorin nodded.

“Fundin and Frerin burned together. Along with so...so many others. I cannot tell you how many we lost. And I faced Azog.”

“I don’t understand how he survived.” She whispered. “You cut off his arm. He should have bled to death.”

“Evidently the Orcs have more healing power than we thought. They were built for war.” Thorin opened his eyes and watched her face. This was not helping her. “I am sorry. I did not mean to speak of such ugly things with you.”

“That you could talk to me of them honors me, Thorin. You said.” He watched her struggle, her fingers teasing the edge of the blanket. “Dori said I would be family.”

“I wanted to wait a while to make the offer, to give you time, but he did not know that.”

“Family can talk about these things. Real family. Mother tried. After. We would go on walks. Not too far. But we would sneak out of the window and go up on the hill, look at the stars. She tried to get me to talk of it. But I could not. We never did. Then Father fell ill, and she died soon after. We have all lost much, and you more than most, Thorin.”

“You are more than worthy to be called kin.” She ducked her head, her face contorting as she yawned loudly. Thorin nudged her book with his boot. “Do you think you can finish this before we leave?”

“Of course.” She sniffed. “My first craft I learned was reading. I wager I read faster than you.”

“That would still make you a slow reader.”

“That can’t be true! You’re a king!” She waved her hands in the air. “All the stories…” She stopped herself and laughed ruefully. “Are not real. As I have learned all too well.”

“Alas, I am a very busy king, with many responsibilities. Reading anything not related to business is a luxury I lost long ago.”

“That is sad.” She shook head. “Books are the world.”

“They reflect the world, but one must be part of the world for a time as well.”

“You sound like Gandalf.” Thorin sneered before he could stop himself and Bella chuckled, but he heard the weariness in her voice as she continued. “He told me the world was not in my books. But it was for a long time. Now it’s with you lot of very confusing dwarves.”

“There is nothing more we’d like that to see you find a true home with us, Bella. Balin already sees you as his child, the rest as a dear sister. I know my nephews had taken to you when they turned to you for help...” A tiny snore interrupted him and Thorin turned to see Bella sleeping, her lips parted and face slack. Not daring to breath, he knelt at her side and slipped his arms under her legs and back, lifting her easily and making sure the blanket was wrapped around her tightly before carrying her back to the bed. He thought the rest of the Company slept, but once he tucked in his burglar and drew the makeshift curtain closed, someone cleared their throat.

“Is she all right?”

“Yes, Kíli.” Thorin lay down and dug the heels of his palms into his eyes, taking a deep breath. “Just overwhelmed.”

“Night.” His nephew’s voice was heavy with sleep and Thorin was not surprised to hear more snores joining the background rumbling after a few moments. Very slowly, he took her thin scarf and slipped it under the very edge of the curtains that hid her, hoping she would see it in the morning. He very much wanted to keep it, but he had his suspicions about the origins of her too large waistcoats and knew he remembered only male hobbits wearing little scraps of cloth around their neck. And to deny her anything of her beloved father would be cruel.

 

The next day Bella went to the kitchens to cook at Beorn’s invitation, two of his strange dogs hovering near the hobbit as she accepted and made her way across the large dining hall at a quick walk. Thorin’s hands had Fíli racing after them; the Prince fell in with his sister, and Thorin turned to Balin. “So?”

“She is learning everything she can with the same thirst for knowledge she has already demonstrated. Already I find myself wanting to teach her Khuzdul, and I regret how I snapped at her before.” The old dwarf watched her go, smile not fading until Thorin spoke.

“She is lucky to have you.”

“Lucky?” Balin tugged at his beard, then shook his head as they walked back towards the growing pile of their baggage. “Not sure I would say that. We are on a dangerous journey.”

“Yes. But do not discount yourself, old friend. She was already on one, and with your help I think she might find a measure of safety.” Balin grumbled but said nothing more as they approached Beorn in his big chair as he ate a large bowl of soup, presenting the list of what they had taken and offering payment. The skin changer peered at Balin’s neat writing, grunted, and waved aside their thanks.

“You have rid this land of a great evil. It will be a long time before the goblins dare mount a raid, and I intend to keep them from my lands, and the lands of my kin. Besides, meeting that strange creature Bella has been interesting, and I am rarely surprised.”

“We are grateful, none the less.” Thorin was pleased to hear Bella given her proper name. “As is she. We will leave tomorrow and send your ponies back when we reach the wood.”

“And once again I wonder why you risk such a dangerous path.” Thorin closed his mouth as Beorn scratched his chin and yawned. “But you are not subject to my rule, and I can only wish you luck on your journey. A good day.” He lumbered away and Thorin shrugged. He felt the unpaid debt settle on his shoulders, a distasteful reminder of the long wandering before settling in Dunland. But they were on their way once more, and Erebor was singing him home.


	10. Chapter 10

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Leaving Beorn's, and entering Mirkwood, proves difficult for the Company.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thanks so much to my lovely readers, Aderyn R Rowntree, Bead, LuTBC and dragons-bones. You're all wonderful, and I only finished this because of your help.

As lunchtime approached, Thorin watched Bella and Fíli leave the kitchen, Bella saying something as Fíli nodded, smiling. She glared and he put his hand over his heart, bowing low, before she nodded and shooed the prince on his way. Thorin could not help the inquisitive look he gave his heir and Fíli shook his head once before fleeing. Before Thorin could investigate, Bella saw him and diverted her steps, dropping her head as she approached and he mourned that he could not see her eyes. “I meant to thank you for taking me back to bed last night. I suppose I was more tired than I thought.”

“It was my honor to protect you, Bella. I still need my _shomakhîth_.” She beamed and Thorin cleared his throat. “You have some flour on your cheek.” Her hands fumbled at her waistcoat, the buttons still missing, and her face fell. Thorin dove into his own pocket and found a thin handkerchief that was mostly clean, proffering it. But instead of taking it, she tilted her cheek and his hands shook as he wiped the flour away, the sharp memory of his mother doing the same for him after a day of training unexpected. Before the king could think of anything to say, Kíli was at his elbow and pushing by, holding out a hand for Bella.

“Bella, I need your help with my arrows.”

“Arrows?” She put her hand in his and let the young dwarf drag her away, chattering about nimble fingers being better than Fíli’s clumsy attempts at fletching and Thorin cast his eyes upwards before returning to his own duties. Their inventory had been fully replenished, weapons and armor repaired, and the Company had clean clothes again. There could be no more delays. Except he wanted Bella to have one more night of easy sleep, for he had seen the pain in her eyes last night and they had time to reach Erebor still. One day meant one last night of comfortable sleep, a chance to recover reserves that might make the difference on the road. Pleased he had found an argument to use out loud, Thorin finished his inspection and went to go find Balin. He found Gandalf instead, and it was difficult not to say anything unpleasant, restricting himself to a brief nod.

“Ah, Thorin. I was looking for you. When are you planning to leave?”

“Tomorrow. Give everyone a chance to have one more night of sleep.”

“Then to Mirkwood.” The wizard grumbled something under his breath; Thorin was so used to Gandalf speaking to himself by now he didn’t pay attention, simply waited patiently as he was able. “Hmm, yes. I meant to speak to you privately about something before you all leave. Might we go out to the veranda?”

“If you wish a private place, I would recommend the forge or one of our host’s stores. I believe Óin is out in the gardens foraging.” Gandalf sighed but followed Thorin to the quiet forge and leaned against the huge anvil, whipping out his pipe and offering some leaf. Not wishing to muddle his senses, Thorin declined curtly.

“It’s about Bella. It would be impossible not to notice the changed attitudes about her.”

“You were right, Gandalf. She had more to her than even she knew. But that we would try and move past the misunderstandings of our early journey together ought be something you celebrate.”

“I am pleased to hear her laughter again. My only concern...” He coughed and lowered his pipe with a sigh, staring out of the forge for a long moment before Thorin shifted impatiently. Was he so untrustworthy, then? Use the dwarf to kill the dragon, but don’t let him dare hope for anything beyond that. There was a dull ache in his chest as the Wizard continued. “My only concern, Thorin, is that she knows how much she means to you. She’s had little experience being welcomed. I know you are not responsible for her…”

“She has been welcomed to our family. Which you might know, had you spent time with us last night. She is ours.” Thorin kept his hands at his sides, but met Gandalf’s gaze. “And she will never be alone again.” The Wizard beamed but said nothing, only patted Thorin on the shoulder as though he were a child and walked away, humming. Grumbling, Thorin pressed the heel of his palm into his eye, trying to drive away a looming headache with little optimism, letting his other hand grip the edge of one of the hammers, the familiar grip soothing as he mastered himself and went to find the others to inform them of his decision.

 

Most agreed with him, and while Dwalin grumbled against any delay, he agreed readily enough to Thorin’s reasons, and the Company spent some time sitting in the sun, until Kíli whined he was bored. In moments, he had the rough training swords in hand and was urging Bella to spar with him. “We could both use the practice, Bella. And you must give me a chance to reclaim my honor on the battlefield!”

Thorin was about to intercede when Fíli shook his head, and the slow smile that bloomed on her face as she shed her jacket was beautiful. She used her thin scarf to tie her hair, but stopped as Dori leapt to his feet, muttering and grabbing at his sleeve, and within moments had a training braid wrapped around her head, held in place with pins of silver tipped with amethyst. For a long moment, everyone stared at her, and Balin’s eyes shone as he rose to clap Dori around the shoulders. “You look like a true dwarf, Bella. Fight like it.” She had barely a moment before Kíli was pushing her sword into her hand and pulling her to the center of the lawn. He moved in a slow circle around her, and she tracked him warily, her feet sure on the short grass and her sword guarding her head and chest perfectly. With a wild yell, Kíli launched himself across the short distance and their swords met with a resounding thud that had Bella stumbling backwards. Thorin and Dwalin both started forward, but Bella recovered in moments and launched her own attack. Exchanging quick glances, the two older warriors watched as Kíli did a masterful job pushing Bella to defend herself without ever truly endangering her safety, and when he tapped his sword to her shoulder, his touch was gentle enough she took a moment to realize Kíli had worked passed her attempted block. With a quiet huff of laughter, she sank to the ground, accepting the water Dori pressed on her even as she waved off his concern.

“Truly, I’m fine, Dori. Hungry.”

“The lass has an excellent grasp on time. I’m hungry too.” Óin waved his newly restored trumpet in the air. “Even if it’s got no meat, at least it’s not elves’ flowers.”

“Aye.” Dwalin forcibly removed the wildly waving stick from Kíli’s hand and helped Bella to her feet. “You did a good job, Bella.” She lowered her eyes as she slipped her waistcoat back on, but her smile remained as she tried to straighten her clothes. Thorin was suddenly reminded of the closet attached to the room he had spent a night in at Bag End; the endless rows of hanging skirts and shirts rivaled by waistcoats of every color imaginable. Traveling with only a few changes of clothes must have been difficult for her, and he knew a courting gift of formal robes would be well received. He would drape her in green to show her eyes to their fullest beauty, and sashes of embroidered silks to please her. Movement had Thorin turning his head in time to catch Dwalin's hand in his, and only the laughter of the others kept him from retaliating. Without letting go, Thorin lowered his voice and growled in his friend’s ear.

“Very funny, Dwalin.”

“Keep your eyes pointed elsewhere.” The warrior kept his voice low as well, staring right at Thorin. “Else I will direct them there.”

“We’ve been over this. Do not make me invoke my authority over this Company, Dwalin.” Glowering, Dwalin went back into the hall and Thorin kept his face blank as he stood.

“I think he’s hungry.” Bofur rolled his eyes and went after his lover as the others gathered themselves, gathering in the main room and finding the strange animals in the middle of setting up the dinner, and after two dogs stopped and glared at them, they retreated back to the veranda, most pulling pipes from inner pockets. Bella handed around her bag of pipe weed and Thorin was grateful they all sat in silence, watching the sun sink behind the Misty Mountains. Before the light fled, Bofur and Dwalin rejoined them, and Thorin needed nothing more than Dwalin’s hand on his shoulder to know his friend was apologizing, and simply offered his own small bag of leaf. And before they were called to dinner, the feeling of peace that fell over Thorin kept him smiling as they made their way inside once more.

 

Dinner was a bountiful feast, and as the other dwarves caroused with Bella, Thorin sat aside and spoke with Gandalf and Beorn about the road ahead. Their host had much to say on the changes that had blighted the once beautiful forest, and Gandalf looked more and more disturbed as the meal continued. Thorin was more concerned with the state of the path, and Beorn was certain it was clear. “You must not leave the path for anything, especially at night.”

“If we camp on the path, Azog will find ambush a simple affair.”

“Do not worry about the Pale Orc, Thorin.” Beorn snarled and in the shadows of the hall, his teeth were worryingly sharp. “He will not find your trail unguarded. Gandalf and I have seen to that.” Thorin nodded his head, turning his gaze to his Company for a moment before speaking. Kíli was on the table, pouring everyone more mead, and even Bella was flushed and laughing as they started singing about forks and plates.

“I thank you, Beorn. Knowing we have more time to escape him will make the difference for us.” The skin changer grinned but continued in a serious tone.

“The only advice I have is this. Stay to the path. Avoid the elves. Don’t drink the water, or eat the plants. Your Bella and the large dwarf have done right by you from the state of my pantry, but you will be hungry by the time you reach Lake Town.”

“I am amazed they stayed.” Gandalf shook his head. “But Men are stubborn creatures, sometimes, to match any other race in Middle Earth.”

“Even wizards.” Beorn laughed but Thorin answered Gandalf seriously, staring into his mug.

“They stayed because we were not welcome. They said our greed would draw his eye. It was made quite clear if we did not leave we would be killed. They suffered raids until the worm disappeared into the Mountain.” Thorin could close his eyes and read Dain’s various missives on the state of the East; all implying things were best left as they were. The two larger beings shifted uncomfortably, and Thorin left them soon after, pausing only to tell his dwarves to get to sleep when they could. Balin and Óin joined him, but the younger members of the Company, including Bella, waved Thorin off, raising their tankards and mugs to their host. The sounds of merriment echoed among the rafters, and Thorin paused in the shadows to look at his family laughing and singing before leaving with a smile, pleased one of his decisions had benefited them all.

 

After a breakfast that seemed calculated to make them fall asleep while riding, the Company gathered on the lawn and loaded the ponies Beorn led from the hall already saddled. Doing his best to hold a neutral expression, Thorin nodded his head to Beorn, who stood at the gate with a smile. “Master Beorn, you have our thanks. Without you our quest would have faced grave difficulty.”

“It still does, Master Dwarf. But I wish you success in your endeavor. It will only make this area of the world safer for all of us.”

“Thank you.” It was the first time anyone had acknowledged the larger importance of their journey, and Thorin turned to his pony with a strange lightness in his chest. Beorn said something to Bella, and she laughed. Thorin turned into time to see her holding the skin changer’s large hand in both of hers, the large creature bowing low and stepping away. As she turned to join them, she caught his eye and offered a small smile before going to her pony and scrambling into the saddle without help, but he remembered her stiff seat the last time she had rode, and made his way to her side. “It’s going to be a long day in the saddle, Halfling. Who saw to your gear?”

“Nori and Dori.” She beamed over at the two, the single plait of her travel braid swinging over her shoulder and showing the plain copper clasp. “They gave me a present.”

“It suits you.” He cleared his throat and put a hand on the pony’s back, soothing the animal and wondering where the lavender was in the garden that was suddenly overwhelming his senses. “Did they check your stirrups?”

“No?” She frowned down at him, her hands tightening on her reins. “Am I going to fall off?”

“No!” Caught off guard, he laughed and stepped closer. “No, if they’re too long you’ll barely be able to walk tonight.”

“Oh.” She shifted side to side. “I didn’t know that.”

“I wouldn’t expect you to. Relax your legs. Put your heel down. The metal doesn’t hurt your feet?”

“I climbed the Misty Mountains.” He bowed his head to her unspoken rebuke and pushed back the outer leather flap to tighten the stirrup strap a few notches, allowing her knee to bend. Once both were adjusted, he stood at her side and looked up at Bella, absently patting the pony’s side.

“Don’t fall to the back. Stay in the middle, and if something happens, your pony will stay with the herd.”

“Do you think…?”

“I must prepare for any eventually, and he is not dead. We have a small lead, and we must pay for this time of rest.”

“You’ve much more experience with this than I.” Bella looked out over the fields and the small track that wound east as Thorin kept stroking the pony’s side, staring up at her profile and wondering how a small beardless creature had so ensnared him when his hand closed on her ankle and they both froze.

“My apologizes. You should find today easier than our earlier journey.”

“I think you’re right.” Bofur heeled his pony next to her as Thorin left, going to the head of the Company and swinging into his saddle, urging the animal forward more politely than he otherwise would have. With a whicker that sounded suspiciously sarcastic, the animal started down the path at a quick walk, and the hoof beats filled the air in a soothing cadence.

 

The first day was a pleasant journey, despite the fast pace the ponies set, and Thorin only allowed them a brief stop for lunch, the still looming mountains behind them a wordless reminder of the dangers of the road. Only Bella ate heartily. She and Ori were riding together, talking of the book Bella had finished, and Thorin could not help thinking of the old Library of Erebor; while the gold would restore his people, if only a fraction of the knowledge his ancestors had gathered had survived, the craftspeople would once again be the greatest in the land. When he mentioned his thoughts to Balin, the old dwarf sighed and nodded before glancing back at the two chattering youngsters. “Why do you think I spent time with the lad? Once Dis said he had a head for words, I knew he would be the one I could train to restore the Library.”

“You old dreamer.” Balin chuckled.

“I just hid it better than you, lad. And with Bella to aid him, I know I can hope. I feel it now, with so little distance between us and home.”

“I as well.” Thorin craned his neck, but they were too close to Mirkwood, and Erebor’s shining peak had disappeared. But he could point to it still, and every moment the feeling only grew. “I try not to. There is much to overcome.”

“Hope is important too, lad. It’s good to see it in you again.” Thorin tried not to smile, but Balin knew him better than anyone. “And that a certain hobbit seems to bring it out in you suddenly has not escaped my notice.”

“And a certain hobbit’s trust. This is what I was hoping for when I called for volunteers, Balin. We’re finally united. And I think Mirkwood’s challenges will be met.” The old warrior laughed his agreement, and Thorin turned his attention back to the road.

 

Bella’s weapon’s training continued that evening, and Bifur took charge. The hobbit held his boar spear and wobbled through the steps he showed her, but both were beaming even as she toppled over, the heavy weapon pinning her to the ground. Dwalin and Nori spent some time finally showing her how to move her hands when holding her sword, and as dinner was prepared, Thorin sat apart, holding his unlit pipe and watching the new purpose that had infused his family, his thumb caressing the square corner of the bowl until Fíli was suddenly at his side, leaning against the small boulder. “Uncle, you’re brooding again.”

“You compare me to a hen, sister son?”

“When you sit and glare at the rest of us.”

“Do I glare?” Thorin glanced over and was glad to see his nephew smiling.

“Sometimes.” Fíli glanced up at the stars. “Most of the time, really, Uncle.”

“I was thanking Mahal that our energy seems to have returned.”

“Dinner’s almost ready. Bella and Bombur found mushrooms and I think Nori snagged us a few hares.”

“It will be good to have meat again.” Thorin tried to hide his stiff legs as he joined the others around the fire, and since Óin refrained from commenting, hoped he truly was recovering. Most had stopped flinching at his face yesterday, but his nose still hurt if he didn’t pay attention to how he talked. The meal was scant compared to their time at Beorn’s table, but the flavors were more to his liking, and when they ate the rest for breakfast, Thorin thought he could feel the meat healing the last of his hurts. They reached the borders of Mirkwood two days later, and decided to camp early before striking out fresh, grieved they had to leave their ponies. But Gandalf drew their attention to the shadow that had been following them, and Thorin was grateful they had allowed their mounts to set their own pace on the journey. He had the last watch, and as the sky lightened by imperceptible degrees, his attention was drawn to sudden movement at the pony lines. When he arrived, Orcrist in hand, he found only Gandalf, strapping bags to his horse’s saddle and untying the ponies one by one.

“What is the meaning of this, wizard?” Gandalf turned and sighed before answering, staring out at the sloping grasslands.

“I will not be accompanying you on the next leg of your journey, Thorin.” Stunned, the dwarf took two steps back, trying to understand why their ally was deserting them now.

“Why, may I ask?”

“There are other things happening in this world besides your quest, and I have many responsibilities. You are a stronger group than before, and I trust to your skills to see them through this next journey without me. Besides, I know where to find you.”

“I cannot make you stay, Gandalf. But without your help, this quest never would have left the Blue Mountains, and would have perished in the Trollshaws. I hope that we do see you at Erebor.”

“I believe you will.” The wizard beamed, but his eyes remained tight. “I do not have time for long farewells. Give this to Bella for me.” A small square of paper, held with yellow beeswax from Beorn’s, flashed out from the wizard’s sleeve, and even as Thorin took it, Gandalf was in his saddle and thundering away, the ponies all running after him. Cries of dismay rose as the rest of the Company rose, but their gear was piled nearby and soon they set about filling their packs, groaning about the weight. Bella stared after her friend, her arms folded across her chest and her face blank, but the small tremble at the corner of her mouth had Thorin at her side in moments.

“He left this for you.” Her trembling fingers clutched the paper, but she did not open it.

“I didn’t think he meant it. He said he wouldn’t be with us the entire time but I thought he just meant while he distracted Saruman.”

“One thing I have learned of wizards. They follow their own rules, and to try and understand them is folly. He did not tell you? I saw the two of you talking yesterday.”

“He was only asking after me. And how I escaped the goblins.” She stared down at her feet, and Thorin frowned. He would like to know the same thing. Her story had obvious lies, and her habit of hiding her face when avoiding unpleasant subjects had become as familiar as the feeling of a sword in his hand.

“Bella, I hope that one day, you will trust us with the truth. But if it raises unpleasant memories, of course you do not have to speak of it now. Get your pack. We have a long day today.” She nodded and hurried away, her hand tucked into her waistcoat’s pocket. He could not keep his eyes from her graceful movements until she glanced over at him, and he quickly went to obey his own order. As they stepped under the trees, the air became oppressive, and after the first two gentle turns of the path, all sign of the greater world disappeared. No one spoke, and sweat ran down the back of Thorin’s neck, only partly from the heat. This was awful. Finally conversations rose, but quietly, and Thorin listened to Nori explain the history between the dwarves and the elves to an astonished Bella. Recalling her regard for the elves of Rivendell, he resolved to warn her against the Silvan elves and their treacherous king. Though getting her alone meant having to practically thrown Fíli and Kíli away from her, glaring both of them until they finally took the hint. The fond look she shot after them was endearing, and distracted him as he tried to remember what he had meant to say.

“You are not ready to fight them.” She nodded, her throat bobbing and eyes wide, and Thorin nodded decisively. “Good.” Her gaze on his back nearly had him turning so he could see her, but once again he could feel the approach of Durin’s Day and set as quick a pace as he dared. Without ponies they would be fortunate if they were in the woods for a month. A small part of him wanted to ask Bella to walk with him, but she needed to have more time with the Company without him hovering at her side.

Instead, Kíli walked with her, and they spoke of Beorn’s, Bella revealing she had taken full advantage of the skin changer giving her access to his kitchens. Laughter greeted her, but then Kíli’s voice dropped, his words breathless.

“How did you know?”

“Please. I fed you at my own table, Kíli.” Thorin had to glance back, seeing his younger nephew cradling a small golden cube dotted with sapphires, but he blinked and it resolved into a small piece of cake with berries. “And Beorn had an incredible pantry.”

“But you made cake. Cake! I mean…I haven’t had cake since…”

“Since we left Bag End.” Hearing her voice caress the name of her home hurt, but she continued. “And don’t think I didn’t notice you ate half of the brandy cake that night! Barely left any for anyone, you greedy dwarf.” Fíli grinned and Thorin knew why his heir had been avoiding his brother the past day, shaking his head at Bella’s duplicity and unable to stop the smile he felt for a moment.

“It was delicious.” Kíli gave her a smirk and popped the morsel into his mouth, closing his eyes and halting in the middle of the path, frozen until Dori pushed him, muttering about young fools. Thorin quickly swung his eyes around as Dwalin glowered, but he listened to Kíli praise Bella effusively, begging for another bite. The little hobbit held firm, saying she would share more when they stopped to eat, and Kíli would have to wait until everyone had their own piece. His begging turned extravagant; he offered his portion of the gold before Balin interceded, making Kíli take his turn as rear guard and giving Bella some space. When Thorin decided it was time for lunch, he sat to the side of the path as Bella brought out the rest of the cake, a beautiful golden square wrapped in linen, and borrowed a knife from Nori to cut pieces for everyone. He glanced down at his hands, listening to everyone thanking her, until silence fell once again. Not wanting to see her sitting next to Nori or laughing with Bofur and Dori, Thorin started to pick at his nails, taking deep breaths and sternly reminding himself he had no right to feel sorrow that she would not choose to spend every moment with him.

Someone cleared their throat and Thorin looked up into Bella’s shining eyes, her hands cupped around a rather larger portion of cake than she had been doling out to the others. Not that Thorin would care. But he felt himself smile as she thrust his present towards him. “It’s dried bilberries and honey cake.”

“You are a master in your own right, Bella. Have you had any yourself?”

“Three pieces just to make sure it had baked properly.” Her smile creased her face into an almost unfamiliar expression, and Thorin couldn’t help but stare. “But not today. I didn’t want to carry it too far so I served it all up for everyone else.”

“And you are generous beyond measure.” Thorin reached out to take the treat, hoping she wouldn’t notice the warmth that suffused his cheeks as their fingers touched. “But have some of mine.” Inexpertly tearing off a rough third, Thorin offered and she accepted, turning to leave when she seemed to realize the rest of the Company was broken up into their familial groups. Her steps faltered and Thorin cleared his throat. “I would be honored if you would join me.”

“Very kind.” She sat facing him, bare feet tucked under her knees, and took a small bite of the cake. Thorin copied her and closed his eyes, the sweet decadence melting on his tongue an instant reminder of feasts and parties in Erebor and Dale. He chewed slowly, marveling at the intricate flavors she had mixed together before remembering his manners, opening his eyes to find her smiling at him.

“Bella, Kíli was far too stinting in his praise of this. It’s perfect.”

“Just a simple little cake.” But her smile grew and she looked pleased.

“Is this the bounty I missed by my tardiness? I will never forgive myself. I can only dream of what you would have made of the old kitchens. We had pantries larger than your home, filled to the brim with the best food in the realm.”

“Maybe one day I will. If Bombur will let me.”

“There will be nowhere in Erebor where you would be unwelcome.” Too late, Thorin tried to keep his tone light, but his voice dropped and he listened to himself in horror. But Bella just nodded, taking another bite before looking at him.

“Do you have an idea of how much longer we’ll be traveling?” Grateful she had provided him with a safe topic, Thorin kept his eyes on her forehead, thinking over the maps before answering.

“If we are lucky, two months. Durin’s Day is little more than three months from now.”

“How can it almost be August?” Bella finished her cake and licked her fingers before wiping them on the short grass, shaking her head. “This year has gone so quickly.” Thorin could only nod; his mouth was full of cake and he had to reach for his waterskin, taking a small sip. The warning against drinking the water in Mirkwood had him worried, but they each had several containers in their packs. As long as they kept moving, they should be thirsty but alive when they reached the River Running. Bella leaned back and stared up at the trees, closing her eyes for a moment before a crow screamed and she jumped. Thinking quickly, Thorin swallowed and tried to distract her.

“What is a bilberry?”

“Oh!” She blinked at him. “They’re wild berries. I know they grow in the mountains and in the hills north of the Shire. They’re hard to cultivate so they’re more of a traveler’s treat. Mother and I used to go hunting for them when…” Her face fell and Thorin wanted to reach out and soothe the tension from her forehead, instead offering another small bite of cake she took with trembling fingers. “Anyway, Beorn had a stash of dried berries from last autumn and he offered them to me. I made him another cake to thank him for his help.”

“Then he was rewarded beyond what I could offer.” She snorted at him but he watched her flush and smile with pleasure, hoping he could convince her of her own worth. “Strange name for a berry, though.”

“You know, I was almost named after bilberries. But father was unexpectedly eloquent.” Bella ducked her head, taking a deep breath. “He said I was too much her daughter and a Took to be anything other than her namesake. Mother relented after seeing how much it meant to him.”

“What would they have called you?” Strange that a child’s outer name could be anything, rather than a signifier of clan and lineage, but it was good to learn more of her ways. She had been more than willing to try and understand his people, after all.

“Billa, perhaps, or even Bilba, to be more traditional. But Belladonna I am.”

“It suits you.” Admittedly, Thorin couldn’t even remember what the belladonna might look like, but he did know enough that it could be used as a poison, and Bella had proven herself dangerous.

“It’s not the prettiest flower, but mother always said it warned everyone that neither of us was a typical hobbit lass.”

“You look like her. I can see why your father would argue for your name.”

“Certainly scared Lord Elrond.” She finally laughed. “He thought I was a vision of the past. Did you see his face?”

“I did not.” She had been trembling in his arms, staring up at the stern elf, when she had cried out and fallen to the ground. But he would not remind her, instead finishing his cake and mourning there was no more. “Thank you, Bella. Come. We have a long way to go today.” She was instantly on her feet, going to her battered pack and the new staff Bifur had carved for her, and Thorin watched as the rest of the Company began to move. He wondered how she led through example only, using smiles and questions where he would use orders and anger. Everyone thanked her for the unexpected treat, and she and Bombur walked together discussing their recipes as Thorin stepped into the lead again, Balin at his side.

“What was all that?” He spoke Khuzdul, and Thorin slipped into the same language.

“Eating.”

“And that was it?”

“Mahal’s forges, Balin, I had no idea I could not speak with her any longer.”

“It’s not that, lad.”

“Then what? You had all sat in small groups, and she was intimidated. I offered to share the meal with her so she wouldn’t feel alone. As I would with any of my subjects.”

“You’ve never mentioned courting of any of your subjects before.” But the old dwarrrow’s face was losing its anger. “You’re a honorable dwarf. I will not read anything else into your talks with her. Though, and do not tell my brother this, if she should honor you with her attention, I know she would be well treated.”

“Thank you. I know the past days have been difficult ones. But I can tolerate no more of this possessiveness of Bella. She is family to all of us.”

“And the elves say we do not know how to love.”

“Aye.” Blessedly, Balin said nothing more, and Thorin granted himself a moment of hope. Perhaps there was a chance he might yet court her, do all he could to convince her he would make a worthy husband. He would gladly spend the rest of his life waiting for her decision, and even if she decided against him, any time he was permitted in her presence was gift enough.

 

Losing his resolve after an hour, Thorin turned his attention to Bella once again. She was walking alone and he saw the tension in her eyes, recalling that she had mentioned her violation had occurred in the forest near Bree. And that she had faced those same woods to escape.

With a quick whistle, he summoned Fíli and flashed a few quick hand signs as they walked. Obediently, Fíli fell in with Bella, keeping her in the middle of the group and asking what she had thought about Beorn’s gardens. None of them understood why she giggled before launching into a seemingly technical discussion of how the skin changer’s flowers were both for his bees and for beauty, but they nodded along, and Fíli managed to ask a few questions that had her chattering until it was time to make camp. It was the most animated any had seen her, and though Thorin could only listen, he could picture the way she tilted her head on certain words, or would wag a finger for emphasis. He could not stop his smile when she waxed eloquent on how the placement of the wild roses meant Beorn was a secret romantic, or that the bounty of ivy on the north of his lodge meant even in the dark he wanted the company of growing things. There had been ivy at her kitchen window, and the first blooms of what promised to be a garden of astonishing beauty. Including wild roses.

Thinking of what she had given up to follow him in uncertainty had his throat closing suddenly, but he fought it back savagely. She had given up nothing but a gilded cage where she had been placed against her will. Flowers and ivy were no substitute for kindness, or the embrace of family.

He could not dwell on such thoughts as he saw to the organization of a defensible camp that evening, Azog’s continued existence a sudden thorn in their side. Kíli stuck by Bella, talking about Rohan of all places. Neither had ever been east of the Misty Mountains before this journey, but Bella had a book about their founder and somehow, Kíli knew something of them. The refugees who had stuck with the royal family had traveled through there on the way to Dunland, but the Rohirrim had still been suffering from the war with the wild tribes and had little succor to offer more wanderers. Thorin barely remembered their one night at Meduseld, but Dís had been entranced and had played with the King’s children. Perhaps she had told her sons more than Thorin knew.

Glóin soon had a fire going and they made a small dinner, parsing out the meat and honey cakes. Suddenly Bella cried out and ducked to the ground as an enormous moth flew straight at the fire over her head, and Thorin leapt to his feet as Kíli threw himself over her, several of the disgusting creatures fluttering over his body. More and more swarmed over the swearing dwarrows, and swords did nothing, the wildly fluttering moths dodging every desperate blow. Covering his face with his sleeve, Glóin knocked the fire apart, stomping on the coals until nothing but smoke and ash remained and their attackers dispersed. The thin moon gave just enough light through the leaves that Thorin could make out the shapes of his companions, and he made his way to Kíli’s side as Bella uncurled from the moss and gasped. “Bella, I’m right here. Are you all right?”

“No. I can feel them on me.” She shuddered and tossed her head, raking her hands through her hair and over her arms. “What were they? Bats?”

“Moths.”

“Moths? Moths! No! Moths are tiny…” She fell silent, curled up on herself and head buried in her arms. Kíli hovered, his shoulders tense, and she suddenly reached out and put a hand on his arm, patting him clumsily until the young dwarf relaxed and settled next to her.

“Not here, I’m afraid.” Thorin looked around for her pack and found Nori standing nearby, holding it and accepted with murmured thanks. “We can get your bedroll set up for you.”

“Yes.” She raised her face, glancing around and her breath catching in her throat. “It’s so dark.”

“We will keep watch.” Thorin cleared his throat. “We’ll put you right in the middle. No one will be able to reach you without going through us.”

“Aye, lass.” Dwalin moved closer. “We can see enough to keep you safe.”

“You’re all so kind.” Her voice broke but she stood, taking a deep breath. “Thank you.” She held out one hand and Thorin took it as slowly as he could, and though she jumped she did not flinch back from him.  Moving slowly, he led her to some smooth ground, checking for rocks and pebbles, brushing the biggest aside and unfurling her small bedroll, finding the heavy wool blanket Beorn had given her before stepping back and showing her where it was by touch.

“If you need to change, let us know and we will give you what privacy we can.”

“It’s simple to change beneath my blankets, as I have been doing this entire time.” She laughed suddenly, squeezing his hand before ducking her head. “You do not need to change everything, Thorin.”

“Neither do you.” He cleared his throat. “Balin will have first watch.”

“Then you best to your own blankets.” She curled up and the rest of the Company followed her example, but for Balin, who began his slow, measured pace around them, his mace at the ready. The sounds of the forest were strange, and Thorin lay awake until Dori stopped by his head to wake him for the watch.

“There are eyes watching us, Thorin.”

“Show me.” Dori led Thorin to the edge of the trail and pointed; eyes in the trees, catching the moonlight and eerily green, moved weirdly and never blinked. Both dwarves shuddered, and Dori left Thorin to his watch in silence. Orcrist was heavy in his hand, but there was no sound beyond those of his companions, and by the time he woke Glóin, the king felt as though he had witnessed the passing of an Age.

 

Spirits flagged over the next few days, and no one had the energy to try and raise them. The precious hope Thorin had felt when he stood on the Carrock and held Bella in his arms was all but gone. No one laughed, and Bella stopped talking altogether despite the efforts of Fíli and Kíli, going to her bedroll as soon as the small dinners were over, hiding under the heavy blanket Beorn had given her. Everyone did their chores and nothing else, and Thorin said nothing, for he felt the same hopelessness he saw in their eyes. The forest was unchanging, and they took to making their camp while there was still enough light to keep the moths at bay. It took more effort to rise in the morning, and Erebor’s presence was fading from Thorin’s mind, and he could not muster enough energy to care. He still could smell lavender at strange intervals, the scent enough to drive the corruption of Mirkwood from him, but it always faded and he sank back into the stupor that was affecting the others.

He took out his lap harp and put it away every night, all of his skill deserting him when he saw the carvings his sister had made for him, and he heard no whistling or humming from anyone, even Bofur, who walked at Dwalin’s side and kept his eyes hidden with his hat. No one was immune to the pressing humidity and lack of fresh air. Even a mine was not so oppressive, for the caves and shafts of Erebor breathed, and often the air was cleaner than the surface. Mirkwood had air heavy with water, and the stench of decay infected every breath and bite. None of them had ever experienced such an environment, and there was no one more affected than the Hobbit. Compared to her home, the forest was disgusting, but Thorin could think of nothing to comfort her with. He wasn’t even sure if she would hear him, and kept to himself beyond ordering the set up and breakdown of camp. They no longer ate lunch, to extend their food stores, and no one even muttered a complaint when he gave the order two days into the journey under the unending boughs.

 

A week had passed, and the entire day was spent in silence. Bella’s face was wan as she stood over the fire, chopping vegetables and letting Bombur stir the pot. They were running out of fresh food quickly, and the quartermaster had already had to discard spoiled food twice. After this last meal, they would be eating honey cakes only, and the strict water rationing was already sapping their strength. The fire was quickly dismantled, and Thorin didn’t even bother looking for his harp or pipe as he fell asleep, and when Balin woke him for the next watch, Thorin felt as though he still slept as he tried to avoid looking at the unblinking eyes. Tonight they were closer than before. And then a sound he hadn’t heard in days reached him. “Bother.” He was alert in an instant, Orcrist leaping to his hand, when he heard Bella moving and saw her standing silhouette against the darkness.

“Bella?”

“I…oh, blessed Mother!” She stomped the ground in frustration and Thorin tried to calm his heartbeat as he turned his attention from the woods to her. “This is so embarrassing.”

“Do you need to pass water?” Dealing with personal matters had grown difficult, and most nights a blanket was set around a quickly dug hole. Tonight, no one had the energy, and Thorin realized how much he had left untended.

“Yes, but…not just.” Her voice went small and Thorin understood, even as he made his way to her side.

“I have a sister, as you know. It is normal.”

“I lost track of the days. I should have known this was going to happen!” She sounded close to tears and his heart seemed to shrivel in his chest as he knelt. “I’m so sorry. I know it’s my problem to deal with but I can’t…”

“Bella, we’ve talked about this. You are ours now. You have no problems that any of us would hesitate to help you with.” Thorin knew his words for a lie even as they spilled from his lips; he wouldn’t trust Kíli not to make some joke, but the young Prince would still help, if awkwardly. “Come, gather what you need and take my hand.” She obeyed, wrapping her coat around her shoulders before putting her hand in his. Thorin took his blanket and led her away from the camp, back towards the west, and held the blanket wide so no one could see her. “I won’t listen.”

“I’d like to see you try.” Her voice trembled but she laughed as she tended to her needs. “I’ll need to clean these before dark tomorrow.”

“Of course.” Thorin turned his head to the side, but kept the very edge of his vision on the path beyond her. It would not do to have some Orc ambush them while they were vulnerable. Nothing moved but the branches far overhead, reacting to some wind they could not feel, trapped below the canopy. It was strange, hearing her voice, but he had missed it and kept talking, unwilling to let her be silent again. “Are you in pain? Óin might have some willow bark still.”

“After dosing us both so much at Beorn’s I can still taste it?”

“Point taken.”

“I will be fine.”

“Bella, if you’re in pain and can’t run if you need to, that puts us all in danger.” She didn’t answer and was suddenly at his side, her hands clutching a small bundle of clothes to her chest and Thorin jumped, her quiet movements still unsettling. The curve of her smile caught the dim light and he stared down at her, reaching out for her before stilling his hand.

“If he has something I will take it. But we don’t know when the need might be greater. This is no arrow wound, cut from a sword, or an infection. Truly.”

“You know yourself. And the rest of you?” Thorin folded his blanket over one arm and took her proffered hand. “Ribs?”

“If I take too deep a breath they ache, but it grows less. And yours? You still have a faint bruise on your eye.”

“I barely feel them. We are quick to heal.”

“So why do you still wince when you sit up?” Thorin paused, glancing down at her curls, shaking his head as his hand tightened around hers.

“You watch me?”

“I watch over my family.” Overwhelmed, Thorin drew her close, leaning over far enough to gently bring their foreheads together. They stayed there for a long moment, his hands on her shoulders and her hands buried in the fur of his coat, then Balin snored deeply and they jumped apart. Bella laughed and squeezed his hand one more time before snuggling back into her blankets, leaving a very confused King staring after her, his heart light once more.

 


	11. Chapter 11

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> As the Company finds themselves trapped in Mirkwood, Thorin struggles with his growing feelings for a certain hobbit, and Bella surprises them all.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> After surviving the holidays and a few bouts of illness, I'm back! Mirkwood presented its own challenges for me, but the story is moving again and my inspiration has returned. Thank you all for your never ending encouragement and support.

_Erebor’s Front Gate loomed far overhead. Cold water sprayed Thorin’s feet as the River Running crashed by, rapids roaring in his ears as he walked through the open gates. Inside, guards stood at attention, saluting their future King with respect. But he had to hurry. He was late. The corridors and stairways twisted in unfamiliar directions, but he was at the treasure room in moments. Gold shone all around him, and it was his. He could feel the weight of it in his hands even as he stood on the steps leading down, and smiled. With this, all would know the might of Erebor, tremble at the approach of one dwarf from her halls, knowing the power that could be summoned. As he approached a pile of coins, he saw something moving underneath the glittering treasure and turned quickly, choosing a chest of diamonds instead. But when he threw back the lid, the shadows were there, larger than before, and he ran, up the steps of Bag End to pound on the door, his hand pushing through the green wood like mist. And whatever he touched, the shadows consumed until all he could see was darkness._

 

Darkness greeted him. They were deep in the woods, and the trees blocked nearly all the light. Blinking, Thorin let his eyes adjust and heard Balin humming as he made his slow rounds, the rhythm slow and steady, heartbeat of the dwarves. His own heart was thudding against his ribs, and he gulped in great lungfuls of air until he stopped shaking. Two deep breaths had him sinking back towards sleep until a soft sigh drew his attention. Somehow, he and Bella had placed their bedrolls close together, and he was certain she had hidden flowers from Beorn’s garden in her things as a whiff of lavender pushed back the decay of Mirkwood for the briefest of moments. He had hoped he had left the nightmares behind once he had unlocked Bella’s secret, but Óin’s gentle admonishment rang in his mind. The thought he might never entirely lose the scars from battles long gone was not a new one, but all his scars were not on his skin. Neither were Bella’s. No one in the Company was untouched.

And it was strange, thinking of his family with such detachment, but even the youngsters had their own struggles. Fíli and Kíli, afraid to disappoint him, and always aware their father had died only because Thorin had taken him to guard the caravan. Thorin had come back with food to feed them all for the winter and a stone sarcophagus, and it had been a year before Dís could look at him. Bella turned, another sigh distracting Thorin from his memories. Grateful, the king stared at what he could see, the soft curve of her nose so different from any dwarrow’s, small and delicate, but entirely hers, and beautiful. She was clearly in pain, two days into her cycle, but none of them could convince her to take the last of the willow bark. At least they were all talking more, and Thorin had reimposed discipline, setting up the rota for various chores, and including himself for once. She turned again, and her eyes were open, staring up at the unmoving canopy as a small tremor shook her before a silver tear traced her cheek, only to be dashed away in moments. Unwilling to frighten her, Thorin closed his eyes, but another small sob echoed through the trees and he was up before he could stop himself. “Bella.”

“Thorin!” She turned towards him, her eyes staring at his shoulder, and he knelt close enough to touch, but moved no closer. “Did I wake you?”

“I was already awake.” He wanted to demand she let them take care of her, but only reached back for his water skin and cleared his throat. “Have some water.”

“But…”

“Just a sip?” She sat up, holding out her hands, and he navigated the half empty container to her, making sure she had it before she tipped her head back and gulped a mouthful, catching the drops that escaped from her lips with her little tongue. Even in the darkness, the sight had Thorin turning his head away, his cheeks burning, and it took him a long moment to realize Bella was trying to return his water skin. “Thank you.”

“Two more days.” She whispered. “And I’ll be better. We can stop wasting water on me.”

“Bella, please.” Thorin took her hand, squeezing her small fingers. “Stop. You have more than earned anything we could offer. I don’t want to keep hearing the Shire’s poison spilling from your lips.” Instantly, he knew he had gone too far, but though her eyes were wide and wounded, suddenly she nodded.

“You are very patient with me.” Thorin bent his head over her hand, keeping his voice low to mask his pain.

“I should not have said that. It was your home for a long time.”

“But it is poison. It’s still inside me, but I can feel it now.” She passed her free hand over her eyes, slumping backwards. “Thank you for letting me talk about it.”

“Always.” Thorin’s handkerchiefs were filthy, but he did his best with his thumb to wipe her cheeks clean. “Try and sleep, Bella.”

“I’ll try.” She squeezed his hand back, disappearing beneath her blankets, and Thorin turned to find Balin standing nearby. The old dwarf nodded before resuming his rounds and the king stared up at the branches obscuring the sky, trying to recover his composure. If they were anywhere but this swamp of a forest, on a quest towards their death, he would have already given her some token of his feelings. Perhaps a case for her pipe, set with gems and carved with flowers. He was not a master woodworker, but he did well enough. Such a present would not be too personal a gift, enough to show he paid attention to what pleased the little hobbit. She had already made him the gift of her craft, and for a moment, Thorin allowed himself to imagine she understood the significance of such an exchange.

Rolling over and punching the bundle of his coat twice, Thorin snarled at himself. He was a fool. Of course she didn’t know, and she had been sharing with her family out of a pure, unselfish love with no motive beyond making them happy. And it only made her more desirable. Resigned, Thorin closed his eyes and forced himself to think of his duty, and Erebor. Once the Arkenstone was in his hands, the crown on his head, he would allow himself to say what was in his heart. The Longbeards, his greater duty, had to come before personal feelings. Thráin, Thrór, all his tutors, had driven such words into his brain before he had come of age. But against their teachings, Bella’s mere presence robbed him of all defences, and he was not as sure as he had once been that waiting was the proper action.

 

The morning did not bring the light they had grown used to, and Bella huddled at Nori’s side during the long march, her hand clutching his sleeve, and he spoke to her in a low voice. Ori stayed with them, but the young scribe’s face was as pale as Bella’s, and they both looked to the still confident poacher for reassurance. He told them outlandish tales but it was clear his heart was not in his boasts, and no one laughed. Knowing Bella was touching Nori had Thorin snapping at Dwalin and Fíli both, and he strode out ahead of the Company for a time to try and clear his head. He was afraid of what he might do if he allowed his emotions to overwhelm his good sense, and pushed the Company to a faster pace than before, losing himself in the rhythm of his footsteps until a brief stop for a bite had him reassessing the others.

Some were footsore, and Bella looked drained, but they took their honey cakes and water gratefully. Gritting his teeth against the delay, Thorin had Dori take the lead, knowing the strong dwarf would set an easier pace for the rest of the day. He stayed at the back with Dwalin, saying nothing but enjoying his captain’s company as they made their way under unchanging branches. Finally Dwalin cleared his throat. “Have you given thought to what we might do if we miss Durin’s Day?”

“We will not.” Caught off guard, Thorin’s answer was sharper than he meant to be and he knew he had misjudged his tone when Dwalin’s nostrils flared.

“And if we do.” His captain growled and Thorin closed his eyes for a moment.

“I do not know. I doubt we could stay in Lake Town a year. And where would we go? I promised our people they would have a home or I would die trying. We will find another way into the Mountain, and let Smaug know we have arrived. I care not.”

“So. No going back then.”

“You forget we are being hunted. If we have to, we can seek refuge with Dain. If no other possibility presents itself.” Rolling his eyes, Dwalin muttered something about not offering help with risk, but stayed silent as they pressed onward. Thorin ignored his grumbling. They would stand before the door come the last light of Durin’s Day. To make other plans was to invite failure. He shook his head as his gaze fastened on a great tree, covered in mold that glistened even in the low light, turning his stomach. He had thought the forest oppressive before, but the longer their journey, the more Mirkwood earned its epitaph.

If possible, the air was more fetid from the morning, and Thorin covered his nose and mouth with his sleeve when the taste of decay grew too great. He longed for the pine scented air of the Blue Mountains, or even the soft breeze of the Shire. “Uncle?” Jolted from his reverie, Thorin glanced over at Kíli, who was playing with his bow and hiding his eyes behind his hair.

“Aye?”

“I saw some squirrels yesterday. I thought we might shoot some today?”

“You think anything in this place is edible?”

“I think I’m willing to try. We need meat.”

“Then do it. But be careful with your arrows.” Kíli flashed a quick grin, the first Thorin had seen in days, and he rejoined his brother up the line. When they stopped for a brief water break, Kíli stepped to the middle of the path, staring to the east, an arrow fitted to his bow. Something moved in the branches overhead, and sprouted feathers as it fell to the ground at Kíli’s feet. It was a dark squirrel, thin and rangy, but all had been too close to starvation to turn their noses up at such a gift. Bella stepped forward on careful feet, picking up Kíli’s prize by the arrow as the other dwarves congratulated the young prince. Her voice was quiet, as though she spoke to herself, but Thorin heard her.

“I wouldn’t eat this.”

“Halfling, we have little choice.” She bit her lip and backed away from Thorin, but before he could apologize, Bombur was at her side, his knife already in hand. As the quick butchering commenced, Kíli shot two more creatures, but lost an arrow and stopped. Already feeling guilty for snapping at her, Thorin found his burglar helping Bombur, laying out cooking implements and discussing how best to cook the dark, greasy meat as Glóin made a fire pit, aided by his brother. Thorin clapped Kíli on the shoulder as they watched the bustle unfold, but he could not stop staring at Bella. She was pale as she set up the small grill over the flames, and when she glanced up to see him, she looked away quickly. He had hurt her again. The meat sizzled and spat, dripping an alarming amount of fat onto the flames, but after days of travel cakes, all the dwarves were hovering impatiently. Bombur did his best, using some of the precious water and a few spices to baste the meat, but even when he proclaimed it ready, it was far from being the most appetizing meal Thorin had seen. Nori took the first bite and spat out the meat before he had even chewed, going green and shaking his head.

“That tastes like poison, Bombur! What are you trying to do to us?”

“Excuse me?” Bombur stabbed his knife into another small piece and bit in angrily, but he had the same reaction as the poacher. Shouldering them aside, Thorin plucked his own bite from the grill, and tried to keep the gristle down, but failed. He cursed and threw the meat into the fire, but did his best to reassure Bombur he didn’t blame the cook.

“It was worth the attempt.” He spoke to them all, but especially his nephew, who was huddled by himself, bow unstrung and tucked away already. “But these creatures are entirely of these woods, and unfit to be eaten.” Everyone groaned, and the Company was on the move again once the fire was kicked out and the remains of the creatures buried deep. Thorin deliberately set Dwalin to the front and joined Bella in the middle of the group. “You were right.”

“It was still worth trying, as you said.”

“Maybe.” She shrugged, staring off into the trees.

“It was. I should have stayed quiet.”

“Never.” The mere idea that he might send her back to the mute suffering of before had him scrambling for anything to say. “Please.” Aware of Balin’s eyes on his neck, Thorin cleared his throat and kept his voice light. “We all enjoy hearing your words, Bella. And I should have known to trust your instinct for food.” And though she didn’t say anything, the curve of her lips was all he needed.

 

That evening before the sky went dark, Thorin rescued a promising log of hardened ash from the fire pit and went to Bifur, who sat with his ever present carving tools, fussing over the small figure of a spider with articulating legs and bulging eyes. Trying not to look too closely, Thorin voiced his request, trying to keep his voice low. It took Bifur a long moment to respond. “Why?”

“Playing any music here feels dangerous, and my hands need something to do.”

“I understand.” A perfectly balanced chisel and gouge twirled from Bifur’s hands into Thorin’s lap, and the wounded dwarf turned back to his own strange creations without another word. Trying to remain unobtrusive, Thorin went to his own seat and glanced over at Bella and Fíli, who were smoking and talking as they picked at their travel cakes. It was easy to estimate the size of her slender pipe, and when it came time to fit the case he could always come up with an excuse to handle it for a few moments.

Using the fine tools, Thorin roughed out an outline before the light disappeared, and sat his watch creating designs in his mind, wondering what flowers he might chose. Wild roses, lavender, and vines of ivy to demonstrate he listened to her flower lore. He would first have to find out what lavender meant to her, and why she carried it even now. He would use emeralds to compliment her eyes, and to show his desire; sapphires for his own colors, to show he considered her equal. Amethyst for love, and diamonds for steadfastness, all set in mithril to honor his ancestors and prove the truth behind his silent proclamation. Someone would have to teach her the minerals and what his people thought of them, and he was grateful hobbits had similar feelings towards flowers. Dori would know them all with their shades of meaning, and Fíli could be counted on to steer a conversation that way, to distract Bella from the pain of the journey. Surely the rest of her family would be eager to instruct her, and he could stay out of it. Erebor held enough gems to help him create whatever gift might catch her eye. When he was relieved, Balin remarked on his King’s smile, but Thorin put his councilor off, speaking of the journey, and left for his blankets with an easy heart.

 

All pleasant thoughts of courting gifts fled over the next few days, though Thorin made a point to spend a few minutes with Bella, trying to keep her smiling. He rarely succeeded; what did he know of laughter? Mostly he tried to let her talk, but today she said nothing, just slumped along the path, her eyes on the ground and her staff carving the damp earth beneath their feet. Her free hand clung to the pocket of her waistcoat, worrying at a small bump until she gulped and glanced around. “We must be getting to the end, yes?”

“I wish I knew. We would have to ask Balin.”

“We’ve been walking for weeks.”

“Not even a month, I’m afraid.” And nothing to show for it, except frayed nerves and diminishing stores. “But we will reach Lake Town, and then you will see your home.”

“Erebor.” She murmured, smiling for a moment, but then her hand returned to her pocket and Thorin went back to watching the path. Today Nori was at the head of the trail, peering back and forth but maintaining the pace Thorin had asked for. Dwalin’s questions had made Thorin more determined to reach Lake Town by Augusts’ end, to give them time to plan and recover. Food was scarce enough without creating days of shortage, but he had to allow time for rest. Focused on the eternal difficulties of a group traveling on foot, Thorin did not notice the pace had slowed until he nearly walked up Glóin’s leg. Suddenly Nori hissed at them to stay still, his weapon at the ready and his hand pointing east. “Can’t you hear that?”

“What is it?” Thorin eased forward, signaling Kíli to stay ready and Fíli to guard their flank.

“It sounds like marching.”

“Elves?” Dropping his hand to Orcrist’s hilt, Thorin prepared a dozen defenses for the Company, but Nori shook his head.

“I never heard one of those flower munching gits make so much noise.”

“Orcs?”

“Might be. Could be Men.”

“We go together. One of us has too much a chance of dying before warning the others.” Seamlessly, the Company formed ranks, and Bella stood with her fellow _shomakhîth_ as though she had served there for years. Her sword did not glow, which was a small comfort amid the greater worry of keeping them all safe, and they approached the next curve in the path as one.

The stomping of feet resolved into the roaring of black water, the oily surface reflecting the weirdly moving branches overhead. The remains of a crumbled stone bridge were clear, and the lack of a span was a dagger to his heart. Hissing in disappointment, Thorin stopped on the bank and tried to see the other side, but it was shrouded from him. “Kíli, you have young eyes. Can you see something?”

“No. Just...darkness.” Bella joined them, holding Kíli’s arm as she stood on the very brink of the stone and shaded her eyes.

“There is something there. It looks like a boat.” The dwarves stared at her, but she nodded. “Yes. A boat. I can see the stern on the bank. It doesn’t appear to be tied.”

“Dori, the grappling hook.” Estimating the length of the river was easy, and soon Kíli was spinning the hook gracefully as Bella pointed to where she saw something. It took him three times to find the bank, but the next throw was true and all heard the thunk of good wood against metal. Thorin reached over and clapped her shoulder without thinking, but she did not flinch from him and beamed as Dori began to pull on the rope.

Dwalin and Bofur joined him in trying to free the only means of continuing their journey, and fell to the ground as the rope suddenly went slack. Bella jumped as Ori dove for the rapidly disappearing rope and pinned it to the cheers of the others. The hobbit shook her head ruefully. “I suppose it was tied after all.”

 Bofur righted his hat as Dwalin helped him stand, smiling as he joined her at the bank. “Rotted rope, likely. Ah! And here it is.” A little rowboat, lacking paddles, was soon at their feet. It was easy for Kíli to throw another rope to the far bank, snagging the branches, and Thorin decided he would take the first trip, leaving Dwalin behind to guard the rest, choosing Bella and Balin to travel with him with a few bags despite the protests.

“Avoid the water. Remember the skin-changer’s words.” It was maddening, being close to undrinkable water, but at least the disgusting appearance kept temptation at bay, and everyone was quiet as their King stepped into the boat, helping Balin then Bella into the craft. Thorin sat next to Bella in the small boat, suddenly remembering Gandalf’s words about hobbits and water. She was trembling, and kept her eyes on her feet, but her hand on his arm clenched every time the little vessel bobbed or jerked against the current. “These are strong ropes.”

“It’s not the ropes that worry me.”

“What is it?”

“I can see holes.”  She pointed at the stern, and Thorin glanced at the wood, smiling when he saw the small gaps that had her so worried.

“It’s not bad. They’re above the waterline, very small. It will last long enough for us to continue.”

“How do you know so much about boats?” Her entire body was pressed against his now, and he could feel her trembling through his many layers.

“The Lake.”

“Oh.”

“Look. there’s the shore. We’re almost there.” Balin glanced back at them both, his hands sure on the leading rope, but said nothing. It took long, tense minutes for them to beach, and the old dwarf helped Bella scramble up onto the path before handing out the few supplies deemed safe. Thorin whistled and heard Dwalin’s confirmation moments later as the boat skimmed back to the shrouded west. The rest of the Company joined them, few at a time, but their reunion brought them no joy as long as the others were on the far bank. Bombur, as quartermaster, went last with his precious supplies to make sure not a drop of water reached them. A sudden movement had Thorin turning, and by chance one of the bows lay near to his hand as a large hart, white against the darkness of the trees, leapt from the forest to the riverbank with heart stopping swiftness. Arrow fit to string in an instant, and flew through the air true, but the graceful deer had other ideas and leapt again, upsetting the overloaded boat and sending Bombur flying into the water as arrow after arrow failed to find its target.

Bella’s scream for aid caught his attention and Thorin found her clinging to Bombur’s unresisting arm, about to fall into the water herself. Abandoning his fruitless hunt, Thorin leapt to her side and pushed Bella back from the water, calling for Dwalin. They had the cook out in moments, but their stores were bobbing out of reach in the black water and the boat drifted away from them until Bella leapt forward and held the rope, aided by Fíli.

“Get back from the water!” Snarling, Thorin heaved Bombur to the path with Dwalin’s help, and growled at Fíli. “Get what you can salvage and get back.” His nephew helped Bella regain the path, and the Company tried to take in the enormity of what had befallen them.

“This is the worst that could happen!” Ori groaned, falling to his knees, and the murmurs of agreement rose around Thorin.

“No it isn’t.” Bella strode among them, fists planted into her hips, and halted in front of the young dwarf. “Look at me, Ori.” He raised his head and flinched, but held her gaze as she lowered her voice. “It’s far from good, but he’s alive and unharmed, and he has us here to help him. Nori, Glóin, please start looking for branches long enough to make us a bier. Kíli, Dori, finish unloading that boat, we will need every last of those supplies. Ori, why don’t you help me go through our food and water, and the rest of you, see how we might redistribute the gear so some of you can carry Bombur.” After a stunned silence, the Company leapt to her bidding, nary a grumble to be heard. Thorin made his way to her side as she began to tug at Bombur’s pack, her hands steady on the thin ropes.

“Thank you, Bella.”

“For what?” She set the large pot aside, piling spoons and bowls into it, her head bowed over her task. Thorin knelt and put his hand over hers, stilling her and bringing her eyes flashing to his.

“For being with us.” His throat closed around the rest of his words until he swallowed heavily. “For reminding us there is always hope.” She merely nodded as her hands continued at their work, but the brief smile she gave him from behind her hair brought an answer to his face as he stood and saw to the Company, obeying their hobbit’s instructions as they avoided their slumbering cook. Swallowing his fear, Thorin checked on Bombur again, and Bofur finally joined him, head bowed low under his hat. Óin had already done what he could, and had simply shaken his head at Thorin’s inquiries. The King stayed silent as Bofur touched his brother’s chest and let out a shuddering sigh.

“He’s still breathing. But will he ever wake?”

“We must hope, Bofur.” With slow steps, Dwalin stood at his lover’s side and drew Bofur close, and Thorin left them to their grief to find the bier prepared and their gear divided, but no one seemed ready to continue their trek. Someone cleared their throat and Bella stood atop the litter in a flash, her arms folded over her chest.

“I seem to recall we’re racing against the seasons. Get Bombur onto this and Thorin, chose the other five to carry it first.” He glanced at the packs and saw there were six for those not bearing the slumbering cook, and Bella’s was twice the size it had been before. The Company followed their hobbit, and she set the proper pace for those burdened with the bier. She chose their campsite that night with care, and consulted with Balin about watches as she made dinner. Thorin sat to the side, head bent over his carving, but listened to her take charge and smiled. She would make an excellent Queen, if this is how she reacted to true adversity. Balin nodded his head so low over her hand Thorin could call it a bow, and glanced over at his King before shouldering his mace and taking up his position, outside the firelight in the rapidly falling darkness.

Before they put out the fire, Óin and Bella tended to Bombur, spooning broth into his mouth and checking his heartbeat, but nothing had changed, and Bella had them all to their blankets before Thorin could pull her aside. Perhaps it was for the best. She didn’t need him distracting her, annoying her with his attention. And he had no idea what he might say.

 

Over the next days, Thorin lost track of time, taking his turn carrying Bombur and collapsing around the fire as Bella looked after them all. Stern words from their hobbit kept them moving, and she went so far as to set their watches and assign their chores. One night, Thorin heard her and Kíli speaking of their old homes, and while his sister son did not seem to mourn the Blue Mountains, it was the only home he had ever known. They were both children of the West. Hesitating over sending Kíli back to his watch, Thorin settled back and closed his eyes. It wasn’t so he could listen to her voice. Kíli was young and sad, and Bella could do what a King could not. Pleased with his reasoning, Thorin allowed Bella’s soft voice to lull him to sleep.

Their reliance on Bella’s strength didn’t seem to stoop her slender shoulders over the slow progress of the next days of the unending trek, but when she came to him pale and shaking, Thorin realized what he had been doing to his burglar as she confessed they were out of food entirely. He had been a fool, lying to himself that she was leading them and putting his own responsibilities on Bella because it was easier. He should have been at her side. She might make a Queen, but he was unfit to be her consort if this is how he treated her. Kíli’s reminder of the lost hart and the inedible meat of the squirrels seemed to be the last pebble on the slope, and Bella’s eyes grew hunted as she turned from him suddenly and leapt for the nearest tree, braid streaming behind her as she grabbed the lowest branch and swung upward in a graceful twist. Before any of them could react, she was scrambling up as quick as thought, and then she was gone. Thorin fell to his knees, hand covering his heart, and he bellowed her name frantically before Balin hauled him to his feet. “Lad, lad, there’s nothing we can do. Those branches would snap under even Ori’s weight.”

“Bella.” Thorin whispered raggedly, unable to tear his eyes away from the last place he had seen her. “Why?”

“It must have been too much.” Balin’s cheeks were wet and his shoulders shook as he turned his head to follow Thorin’s gaze. “Up there...oh, lass.”

“Uncle?” Kíli whined slinking closer, face drawn. “What happened?”

“I don’t know.” Thorin hid his eyes for a moment, letting himself sag against Balin until he heard scrabbling from above and stared as Bella made her way back to the ground with the same grace. Before her feet touched the ground he was moving, holding out a hand to help her clear the last drop while looking everywhere for signs of injury.

“Bella. You...don’t do that to us.” His voice croaked in his ears, but he finally registered the anguish in her eyes and fell silent, letting her whisper her news. Once again, she had put herself into danger for them. They were trapped. And she thought it was her fault. Barely thinking, Thorin knelt and put his hand on her shoulder, trying to think of something to say, when he realized he was stroking his thumb along her exposed collarbone, and she wasn’t pulling away. Her skin was softer than any silk he had ever felt, warm, living, perfect as anything in the world. They stared into the other’s eyes, and the terror she was hiding on the rest of her face poured forth from her eyes to his. “It’s going to be all right.”

“Is it?”

“Yes.” A muted groan interrupted them and they both spun to stare at Bombur, who was sitting up and blinking at his surroundings. Bella cried his name and ran to his side, joined by Bofur and Bifur in moments. But once the joy of his recovery faded, their dire circumstances were explained and Bombur comforted Bella, thanking her for seeing to his duties. She accepted his words, and they were soon discussing alternatives but with every conceivable food source either inedible or non-existent, the only plan was to press onward. Bofur walked with his brother, with Bifur hovering and clapping his cousin on the shoulders, but Bombur was quiet about what he had experienced while in his sleep. Most seemed more grateful to have left the cumbersome bier behind them, but Thorin saw the looks of relief they gave their restored companion, and knew their lack of enthusiasm had everything to do with their empty stomachs.

By the time they needed to make camp, no food had been found, and Glóin made the fire more out of habit than any purpose, and no one raised objection when Thorin had it tamped down less than an hour later. He had taken first watch, avoiding their hungry stares, and so saw the light in the forest and heard the enchanting music. The rest were awake in moments at his hissed orders, and they stared at the forbidding forest separating them from the elves. No one else would dare much such a racket in Mirkwood. Finally Balin cleared his throat and everyone fell silent. “We can’t go on like this. We’re weak. Better to beg than die before we even see Erebor again.”

“Agreed, brother. If Azog caught us now we’d be dead in moments.”

“Aye, I’d rather brave elves than Orcs right now.” Glóin chimed in, and Thorin turned to Bella, who was standing nearby, a finger held to her lips as she stared at the light.

“Burglar?”

“Last time we entered a strange, lighted clearing in the woods we were nearly eaten by trolls.” And she had come closest to death. “But starving on our feet is no solution. We don’t know how much longer we must travel until Lake Town, or what our reception might be once we arrive. I don’t think we really have a choice.”

“The lass speaks sense.” Dori whispered from where he crouched with an arm around his brother, comforting the young lad. “Well, Thorin?” Thorin paused, aware this was the moment that might lead to their ruin or triumph. Seeing Fíli cling to Bella’s hand, Dori holding Ori, the pain Balin wasn’t hiding as he looked at his brother, made any other decision untenable, and Thorin released the breath he had been holding.

“We will approach. They may recognize me, so I will go first. Be prepared to run if they attack.” Before he could second guess himself, Thorin stepped off the path, pushing aside branches and kicking rotted stumps out of the way, intent on the light and the music. Thranduil had to know what had befallen the Longbeards once they had lost Erebor. Surely he would offer help, even at a cost. There was no other choice. He could not watch his people starve again. Bella was right behind him, her feet silent but her breathing ragged as they drew near. He stopped a few steps from the clearing and turned, putting a hand to her shoulder and allowing himself one moment to memorize her face.

“Stay back. Wait.” A nod was all he needed, her smile straightening his shoulders. This might be humiliating, but they would live. His family would see Erebor. Another step had him free of the trees. And there was light. 


	12. Chapter 12

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Thorin confronts Thranduil and the elves as he worries for the rest of the Company.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I was really looking forward to writing the confrontation between the two monarchs, so I hope you enjoy my take on that scene.

_My son._

_The son._

_Thorin._

“Thorin Oakenshield.” Reacting to his name, Thorin forced his eyes to open and found himself trussed and staring up at a circle of unfriendly eyes. Elf eyes. “Good. We grow tired of dragging you. Walk. The King awaits you.” Still trying to clear his head of the enchantment, Thorin snarled at his captors.

“If you expect me to be able to walk after my legs have been tied, you are mistaken.” His captors stared down at him, assessing his words, and he held himself still until one shook his head and spoke to the others.

“The spiders are still abroad. Carry him.” Struggling against the rope did him no good as two elves took his arms, leaving his numb legs to drag against the ground as the troupe continued on at a fast clip. The muted roar of a stream was the only warning Thorin had that the keep was near, and only had time to see a blurred impression of stone pillars and strong gates before he was inside and trapped. They left him for a moment, lying before the closed gates as though he was mere slag as other elves arrived and their soft, fluid tongue filled the air and confused his senses. Not daring to move, he allowed his eyes to dart back and forth, taking in what he could, trying to build an understanding of his prison as the ropes were exchanged for chains.

Thorin had visited the kingdom of the Greenwood elves once, in company with his father and Frerin. The castle had grown darker. He remembered flowers where there were only bare walls, and gleaming jewels where empty sockets proclaimed the lack. Unease gripped him tightly. This was worse than he had ever expected. The King that ruled this castle was not the same from his youth. That this castle resembled the forest outside was more than troubling, and from the flat looks he was being given, the elves within had changed with their home. All he could do was look towards the throne room and hope that his family was still alive. He was prodded across a long bridge and up steps, his eyes on the ground to keep his balance across the undulating curves that threatened to send him tumbling. “What is this?”

“The dwarf prisoner.”

“Ah. Thorin Oakenshield, King of the Blue Mountains and Durin’s Folk. At least, those who still call you king. Over one small mine. But a King still.” Thorin looked up into cold eyes and a sneer and held himself rigid even when one of the guards hissed at him to bow. “And arrogant as all your kin.”

“What cause did you have to take me prisoner?”

“I should ask the same question, but as to the manner of your attack. We were simply minding our own business when you sprang your ambush.” That Thranduil could keep a calm face describing starving dwarves stumbling forward as an ambush brought a dry bark to Thorin’s throat before he could control himself. Ambush!

“My people were starving, so we came to beg for food.”

“And why did you lead them to such a fate?”

“We were hungry, and we came to see if you might help.” Thranduil leaned back with a sneer.

“So where are the rest of them?”

“Starving, I imagine.”

“And without your excellent leadership, what will they do? Strike out for Erebor on their own, crown another King as you rot here? Or will they die, alone and cursing your name in the dark woods?” Shuddering, Thorin tried not to react to the provocation but his brain was already racing, imagining what was happening to those who had sworn to follow him anywhere. “I should think you've had enough lessons in loss.”

“You gave me the bitterest one!” Thorin pulled against the guards, breaking free and confronting his captor. “You've already left dwarves to die of hunger and cold. Has nothing changed since then? Except your heart has grown colder. Your kingdom is sick.”

“And who is at fault but your grandfather, Thorin son of Thráin? You brought the worst calamity upon this part of the world, and left it to sicken as you fled. Do not speak to me of wrongs and sins long past. Tell me why you are here, and I might send out my guards to find the others we fled from.”

“Fled? From starving dwarves? Your courage had fled long ago if you found us a threat.” Thranduil laughed and resettled on his throne, smiling as he steepled his fingers.

“And would not dwarves seek their revenge? I know how grudges live in your hearts. So if you were not here to plot against me, you seek your lost kingdom. I cannot allow you to wake the beast, set fire to this part of the world once more. And I suppose the rest of your deluded followers will disappear.” Thorin swallowed his pride, casting his eyes to the ground.

“Would you not do anything for them?”

“And why would I?”

“Imagine your son was lost out there!” Thorin roared, struggling against the chains holding his wrists. “Please!”

“Please?” Thranduil sneered. “Give me your word, then.” Panting, Thorin tried to tell himself that a few words in the common tongue meant nothing, that the Company was worth more. But his mouth would not move. And Thranduil laughed, his long fingers clutching the arms of his throne. “Then let us see if the dungeons can loosen your tongue.”

“What will you do for them?”

“If the spiders have not eaten them they might stumble onto our lands. They will be made the same offer. I wonder how many prisoners I might have?” Thranduil turned his head and Thorin screamed.

He saw Fíli dying to protect his brother, and Kíli dying seconds later. Balin felled by unseen foes, Dwalin bleeding on the ground, blank eyes accusing. Bifur fought back against hordes of enemies, Bofur already dead at his feet and Bombur weeping. Arrows pierced Glóin as Óin failed to save the wounded, Nori fell over Dori’s broken body, Ori beset on all sides by enemies unfazed by his little sling.

And Bella, lovely hair falling over half her face, sank to the ground in front of her home, blood trickling from the corner of her mouth, green eyes staring at the sky unblinking.

Thorin came back to his body, his throat raw, to find he was being hauled on his knees down a winding ramp by two elves. Muscles shook and he couldn’t speak until his captors reached a small room and let him fall to the bare floor. Thranduil had sent the Company to their graves with less emotion than killing a bug under his boot. With a snarl, Thorin tried to lunge at the nearest guard and found himself chained to the wall, barely able to move. The two guards were staring at him, and both held knives. So. Was he to die here, ‘escaping’ or would they even tell Thranduil he was dead? Even as his shoulders pressed into the wall, Thorin titled his head up and braced himself for pain. The smaller of the two, a female with dark red hair, tapped her blade against her palm. That she was in charge was evident and Thorin ignored the other guard totally to meet her cool sneer. She nodded to him as she spoke. “If you give your word to stay there, we will unchain you.”

“And if I refuse?”

“We will cut your clothes from you.” Thorin snarled but held up his hands, allowing the guards to do their work. They went through his pack, tossing things aside, including the half finished carving for Bella, breaking off part of the stem and bringing a growl to his throat. “What is it? Crude carvings and such a strange shape. If this is the best you might do, dwarf, no wonder you hide away in the dark.”

“Just like you, elf.” Pleased at the hit, Thorin smirked and didn't react as they took more care with his harp and clothes, but a sudden thought wiped all humor from his face. The key seemed to burn his chest, but the elves were absorbed with inspecting his knives for a moment and Thorin unhooked the clasp with a flick of his wrist, shoving necklace and key into the fur of his boots, followed by the map from his belt pouch; the hide had created a natural pocket, and he had sometimes used it for an extra bag of pipeweed while traveling.

It was a gamble, but as his coat and mail were taken from him, his jewelry was not touched and neither was his actual skin. He wanted to laugh. Even after everything, it seemed the body of a King was sacred to the elves. If he had Thranduil in this position, that arrogant elf would be stripped naked and checked for weapons in the first moments of captivity. But when they took Orcrist, he couldn’t help the growl he gave, his hand reaching for the hilt and closing on it briefly before the male guard yanked it away with a scowl. “This blade is not for you. It was made by elves…”

“Not of your line, and Lord Elrond himself gave his blessing to my carrying it.” Thorin couldn’t believe he was invoking another elf, but the wary hospitality of Rivendell seemed very friendly indeed now. “What authority have you against his?”

“This.” A blade was against his throat in moments, and Thorin stepped back against the wall, watching as his sword was taken along with his other weapons. Gritting his teeth, the king tipped his head to escape the cold metal, and the elves beckoned him to continue. He removed his surcoat and gauntlets, but did not touch his belt and his captors did not object. This entire exercise was a farce, meant to only humiliate him. Summoning his pride, Thorin met their eyes with a smile. “Lead on. I can not wait to experience the fabled hospitality of the elves once more.” They chained him again, prodding him towards the dungeons, past cages and down stairs, until he could feel the earth pressing down on his shoulders. But the feeling did not hold the comfort being underground usually brought him, and Thorin grew tense as he was pushed by cell after cell, until the bars were replaced by doors and he could feel the weight of the earth trying to crush the air from his lungs as he was unchained, shoved into a dingy room and the door slammed. He stumbled to a halt before he could hit the wall opposite and spun, teeth bared, to find himself alone.

Trying not to scream, Thorin pounded twice on the door before the dull thud told him dwarf steel held firm. There would be no escape without some kind of magic. If Gandalf had not abandoned them, there might be a sliver of hope, but he was alone. The Company was lost. _Bella_ was lost to him, and Thorin sank to his knees, leaning his forehead against the door as he fought for breath. Everything he had held back rose in his mind, drowning out the small sounds of dripping water and vermin, until unshed tears choked his throat. He thought they had time, enough to reclaim the Mountain, so he might come to her with status and power to show her proper honor. Perhaps a dwarf might have understood his overtures, but Bella was a hobbit, and that he expected her to read nuanced signals only showed he had more to learn of her ways before he could offer anything.

He begged Mahal for mercy, feeling as though the hammer of destruction was being held over his head, and for the first time in his life, spoke to Yavanna, asking the Lady of Fruits to protect her daughter until Thorin could correct his mistakes. He would speak to the Company, tell them his feelings towards their sister and ask Balin to speak to Bella on his King's behalf, alert her to his feelings and ask if she wished to pursue a formal courting before he said another word.

More promises to Mahal rang in Thorin's mind. He would restore the temple before anything else, to show their creator and teacher honor, if only he could be given one more chance to make things right, and not only with Bella. His nephews deserved a better life than the one they knew, as true Princes, not swords for hire spit at by peasants. His family deserved to have work that they wanted, to spend days pursuing their craft for the joy of creation, not to put bread on their table. Everything he had promised, and failed to provide as their King.

Thorin knew not how long he knelt, alternating between begging and bargaining, but when he tried to move, his legs cramped and he had to crawl to the bed, pulling himself up with his arms and staring at the dank ceiling, passing out from sheer exhaustion before he could even kick off his boots or belt, his body giving in to the rigors of the past month even as his dreams lay in wait to continue the horrors he had already confronted.

Thorin woke with a strangled sob, fighting against the blankets that had been the rotting limbs of the dead moments before, and fell to the floor before he managed to untangle himself. He slammed his fist into the ground and curled to his knees, gasping for breath, when a small noise at the door had him rolling to a defensive crouch, fists clenched, but nothing happened for long moments. Breathing as quietly as he could through the back of his throat, Thorin held his position, legs trembling and sweat burning his eyes, until he heard the noise again and saw a shadow moving along the ground outside the door. Taking a deep breath, Thorin stood and braved his shoulders against the wall. “I can hear you.” Nothing. Then low laughter broke the silence, and the key turned in the lock, revealing the female guard wearing what Thorin finally recognized as the marks of the Captain of the Guard, holding only a dagger and smiling.

“For a dwarf, you have good ears.”

“And for an elf, Captain, you are very noisy.”

“I heard you scream. The forest inspires many nightmares.”

“My people are lost and starving.” She smiled, but there was no kindness in her eyes.

“You can save them. Will you stand before my King and swear?”

“I will not.”

“Then I will see you tomorrow.”

“And if my answer is the same? Will you continue to hold me without cause?”

“Such is not my choice, dwarf.” She sneered and closed the door without another word, and Thorin muttered a foul curse before kicking his bed frame, digging the heels of his palms into his eyes as he fought for calm. With no other option, he collapsed on the bed for hours until another knock rocked the door, but it was two helmed guards who held swords and a tray of bland food, which was set on the floor and slid across the stone where they commanded him to kneel. Too hungry to care if they were watching, Thorin ate as slowly as he could make himself, the thin meat and gruel filling his starving body before he had finished half of it. Hesitating, he took one more bite before he shoved the tray back at the guards and turned, ignoring their chatter as they locked the heavy door and left him. Wondering if one of them had been wearing flowers, he gripped his forehead, taking deep breaths and trying to think. But there was no way out of this trap.

If he said he was not going for Erebor, Thranduil would certainly let him leave, but he would be escorted west and miss the chance to use the hidden door. If he said nothing, he would die here. “Thorin?” Bella. His nightmares had begun early indeed. He turned, certain he would see a corpse laughing at him, but instead saw a very dirty, tired hobbit huddled in the corner of the cell. His feet moved before he could stop himself, but she didn’t disappear and only curled on herself, big eyes full of tears. Falling to his knees, Thorin reached out his hand for her, gasping when she responded and he felt her warm skin. She was real.

“Bella.” Alive. All of them. He nearly swept her into his arms, but she was flinching back from him, and he saw the fear in her eyes as he shifted closer. He had left her alone in the woods, unable to see. “But how did you get in here?” Her answer had him reeling, and she was hiding something from him, twisting her hands in her torn waistcoat and hiding her face behind her hair. Her braid was in disarray, and the pretty clasp gone. Moving slowly, Thorin knelt and put his hands on his thighs, bending his head to try and see her face. Mouth pressed in a thin line, she was blinking rapidly, cheeks flushed, and suddenly she was gone. Before he could move, she was back, and a golden ring sat in the palm of her hand. Gasping at the impossible, Thorin waited for her to explain, unable to speak.

“I lied. I didn’t know how to tell you about this, when I wasn’t sure if you trusted me or not. I found it in the caves, and it’s how I escaped.” His throat closed around more apologizes, and her voice gained strength as she shook her hair from her eyes. “The rest of the Company were captured by spiders. I managed to find and rescue them, covering their retreat by myself.” Covered their retreat. She meant she had killed monsters by herself, with no one to guard her back. Invisible or no, such an act would require great courage, and came at a great cost.

“Mahal…” Thorin whispered, and Bella nodded, her entire body drooping as she wrapped her arms around herself.

“I cannot sleep alone.”

“Of course I will protect you, as I can.” What he could do against nightmares he knew not, but if knowing she was safe helped, Thorin would do anything his burglar might demand. She offered him her sword, and he bowed low before standing with his back to her.

“I named it. The spiders said they were afraid of my sting.”

“Sting? A fine name. We will engrave the blade with your deeds so that all will know they face a true warrior.”

“Then even Balin will have to eat his words.” She cleared her throat. “I am ready.”

“You need not fear. I will remain on watch and make sure you are not seen.” The elf-sized bed was absurdly high, and he laced his fingers together to help boost her up. She hesitated but her hand gripped his shoulder, her fingers tangling in his hair before her foot was pushing against his hands and leaving him stunned. He had thought her soft, but the tough hide of her feet gave him new insight to hobbits as a whole. They spoke of what messages she should give to the others, and she was asleep in moments, her face tight with exhaustion and fear, but as the night progressed, she relaxed, her soft breathing even and soothing.

Staying awake through all the watches was difficult for the tired dwarf, so he passed the time roaming Erebor, finding those places he wanted to show Bella. She would not find the forges of especial interest, but the kitchens, the weaver’s hall, and the Library might still stand, and ever since he had seen her face looking at Beorn’s gardens, thoughts of the Desolation had been tickling the back of his mind. It was nothing like her home, but under her care, the land Dain said was a barren wasteland incapable of supporting life could live, wreathing Erebor in a green nest to support the game they needed, and a beauty that he missed. The generation of dwarves in exile had grown used to the forests of the Blue Mountains, and trapped in a cell, Thorin admitted he missed the sharp smell of pine, the short lived flowers of spring and the colors of autumn. Erebor would not return to the old ways under his care, but grow and change as her children had. To do anything less would dishonor the sacrifices made by dwarves long dead.

Lost in thought, Thorin suddenly jerked back to the present as Bella whimpered, her hands tightening on the sheet and her face tensing. Humming a cradle song that had sent him to sleep when he was a babe, Thorin did not touch her, but she drew closer to his leg, and pressed her back into him as her shivers ceased. Calculating the hours passed, Thorin thought he could give her an hour more of rest, and tried not to move as he continued his song. Finally overcome by fear the guards might deviate from routine, Thorin slipped to the floor and put Sting aside as he put a hand to Bella’s shoulder.

“Wake up, Bella. I think they’ll be here soon.”

“Mmm?” She rolled over, tugging the sheet with her to burrow into the mattress, and if they had not been locked up Thorin would have laughed, remembering how she did the same thing most mornings when Balin or Gandalf woke her. “Just a little while longer.”

“Not today, burglar. You need to be invisible before long.”

“Invisible?” Suddenly she groaned. “Not a dream?”

“I’m afraid not. First you must find food, and then I need you to explore wherever you feel safe doing so. Be my eyes and ears, and we can plan our escape.” As she sat up and stretched, Thorin stole to the door and pressed his ear to the wood, hearing nothing as he closed his eyes.

“Are they coming?” Her small voice, coming from his left elbow, had him jolting backwards.

“You certainly need not fear them hearing you, Bella.” They shared a brief smile before she turned to her gear, fishing out a dagger Nori had given her, tucking it into her belt before hefting Sting and handing the small sword back to Thorin.

“I think this would make movement too difficult.”

“What of your jacket?” She held the faded red fabric, running her fingers over the lapel before shaking her hand and handing it back to him, letting him hide it in the bed frame along with the rest of her pack.

“I’m afraid of it getting caught in something.”

“You’ll get cold.”

“I think I’ll be safe.” Clasping her hands in front of her, the little hobbit turned back and forth. “Can you hear my waistcoat against my shirt?” Taking her hand, Thorin shook his head, silently begging Yavanna to guard her child from harm as he tried to hide his fear. He climbed back into bed as Bella used her ring to vanish, and when his breakfast arrived, he knew she had gone because he could no longer smell lavender.

It was too much to hope he had been imagining such things for a month. The truth was she had utterly ensnared him when she had saved his life, and pretending otherwise was a mockery of her gift to him. Covering his eyes with his arm, Thorin started to laugh, a broken sound that scraped his ears. To say anything here, when she had so much more to worry about including her very freedom, would be selfish and distracting. But he had to tell her soon. It wasn’t fair to either of them for him to stay quiet before they faced Smaug, or to his people. With so much unsaid, he would be distracted when he needed total focus, and whatever her decision, at least she would know the truth. Why else would his prayers have been answered, if he was not meant to have his chance? He would just have to be patient a whole longer.

The next two days the Captain, called Tauriel he discovered, came to him demanding his oath, giving him no hint his people were in the dungeons above. Refusing her was easy, except for Bella’s continued absence. Listening to the footsteps fade away, he put his hand on the door and whispered her name, but she didn’t reply. Trying not to clench his fists and hammer at the door, Thorin paced instead, breathing deep and keeping his muscles limber. When Bella came back, he must tell her to let the others know to keep themselves ready to run, else any escape plan she might concoct was doomed to fail. Letting out a deep sigh, he ran his fingers over Dis’ gold chain and made another turn. He needed her back. She gave him hope, and he had grown too used to listening to her breath at night to sleep without her nearby. She could be trapped in some room behind a door too heavy for her to move, or cornered by a group too large for her to slip by. That Bella might be captive was the thought he kept pushing away, knowing if Thranduil held her he would be dragged to the throne room immediately. She might be waiting outside right now, waiting for the guards to open the door.

Pacing gave him something to focus on, and Thorin used old training tricks to make sure all his muscles were loose even as he tried to ignore the demands from his stomach. Dinner had to be coming soon, and when he heard the boots approaching, he sat down where they wanted him, bowing his head to hide the hope he could not contain as the tray came to a halt from the contemptuous kick one of the elves had given it. Lavender had filled the cell the moment the door had opened, and he imagined he could hear Bella creeping to the far corner of the room as he finished and thrust the tray away from him. One of the guards rapped the butt of his weapon on the stones and laughed. “You’ll break soon, dwarf, or die here.”

“Tell your king he is welcome to test the strength of dwarven conviction.” Thorin spat, hunching his shoulders as though he did not believe his words. Let them think he was breaking, and soon enough their vigilance would lessen. The moment the door closed, he turned in to see his hobbit reappear, but the smile slipped from his face as he took in Bella’s misery. She flung the ring away, hiding her face in her hands, and as Thorin retrieved the magical treasure, setting it on the small chair, he wiped his fingers on his shirt, wondering how gold could feel greasy before he remembered his greater duty. “Halfling, are you hurt?” She shook her head but as they talked, he watched her try and repress her shivers, and resisted the urge to brush her tears away, recognizing the desire to be left alone until she reached out her arms, letting Thorin pick her up as she sniffled. She didn’t answer his questions until they were both in bed, and he assumed the same position as before, staying as far away as he could.

When she moved closer, shivering worse than before and he finally touched her bare skin, he nearly jerked away from the burning cold before he controlled his reaction and recognized what she was trying to ask for, as a warrior pushed to the edge and turning to a brother in arms for assistance. He had held Frerin and Dis like this on the road during the winters traveling, and did his best to make Bella feel safe as she pressed her back to his stomach and pillowed her head on his arm in a stunning display of trust. After discussing some details of the castle, she closed her eyes, and Thorin tightened his grip. “Sleep. I will be here when you wake.”

“I know.” She hadn’t slept the entire time she had been away from him, and he could feel her body going limp as she passed out, the circles around her eyes dark and her cheeks hollow. Despite his own recovering body demanding sleep, Thorin forced himself into the wakefulness of the watch. He could not risk the treasure he held. Bella clung to one of his braids, her face smooth as her chest rose and fell slowly under his hand, and he drank in every moment, letting the hobbit move when she wanted to, smiling as she turned into his chest and pressed herself to him.

Even now her skin was cold to his touch and he wondered how she could stand such pain. That she was willing to hurt herself for the Company was overwhelming. Thorin carefully pulled her closer, cursing that he had lost his heavy coat, and wrapped both arms around her shivering form until she relaxed again, and still she would not warm. “You must take better care of yourself, my burglar. What would I do without you at my side?” He tucked the sheet around her shoulders, watching how she turned into the warmth of his hand, and pressed his palm to her cheek. “We would have been lost so many times without you. I cannot bear to think of Thranduil getting his hands on you. I would give him the key if it meant you were safe, and the map for your freedom.” Thorin froze as he listened to himself babble on, his heart racing in his ears. “You are so beautiful. I long to see you smile more, hear your laughter. You are too serious, and you deserve happiness in your life, however you choose. I will make you a home with my own hands and beg for the chance to step inside just so I can see you.”

Bella mumbled something, the words slurring together into a musical hum, and he felt her cheek returning to normal under his touch. Heart pounding, he lifted his hand from her and saw her cheeks rosy as ever, letting out an explosive sigh of relief. He pressed his hands to her neck, her arms, even her frigid feet and ankles, until she shivered no longer and made another contented noise, pulling his braid tight and forcing him to curl his head close to her face. He could reach out a handsbreath and kiss her if he wanted. And lose her. Shaking his head, Thorin turned his attention to the hallway, listening for footsteps even as his hands tightened on her back and hair.

When he knew the guards would be at his cell soon, he woke Bella as gently as he could and tried to give her advice based on what he could remember and what he had seen while being escorted to his cell. She listened and nodded, her little face solemn, and then she disappeared as they heard footsteps. Thorin moved as slowly as he dared to give her time, and finished his breakfast without saying a word to the guards. Thranduil had not sent for him in days. But the dwarves had Bella, and no delaying tactics from a paranoid elf could break him. Thorin made sure Bella’s pack was well hidden before lying down, but though he had been awake for nearly a full day, he did not wish to sleep. His nightmares had been growing worse, locked up and alone, but as his body won the battle for rest he did not see any of the grotesque ghouls that had been haunting him lately. 

_He was in a garden, but not one that he immediately recognized, the straight hedges and formal stonework unlike the Shire’s fondness for a certain tamed wildness. Hearing feminine laughter, Thorin only realized he was shorter than he was used to as he tried to climb some steps and had to use hands and feet to reach each platform, the gentle scent of flowers growing stronger as he reached his goal, the low stone wall protecting the low mounds of lavender from the path easy enough for him to surmount as he wiggled on his stomach to gain leverage. “Thorin, be careful!” Waving at the blurry figures, Thorin sat down among the flowers and closed his eyes against the glare of the sun, warmed by the air and the earth as the lavender closed over his head. “Take care of her, son of stone.” The voice was strange, but soothing as Thorin kept his eyes closed. “Take care of the poison I have prepared for our Enemy. All rests with you, now.”_

Thorin woke remembering only that he had dreamed of his mother, and waited for his Bella impatiently, determined he would start to tell her the truth as he could without overwhelming her. Anyone else in his situation might be thought mad for the hope and joy in his heart, but Thorin shook his head as he kept his eyes on the door, waiting to see his Belladonna, his Bella, his _shomakhîth_ , his treasure once again. And as he waited, all he could smell was flowers.


	13. Chapter 13

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> As the Company plots their escape, Thorin finds his faith in Bella and confronts his true feelings for his burglar.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Time for the barrel scene I promised so long ago. Thank you for your patience!

Watching a hobbit wake, Thorin discovered, was even more adorable when her nose was nearly touching his own, her little movements as she sought to prolong the warmth and comfort a few moments more enough to still his tongue despite the fear of discovery. When Bella’s eyes fluttered opened and she stared at him, Thorin loosened his arms, easing back as she scrunched her face into a yawn, her arms going above her head. “Good morning. Sleep well?”

“I did.” They shared a brief smile and Thorin left her to listen at the door again, tensed until Bella coughed to draw his attention. “I’m ready.”

“First go to Balin and then the others. I know you can get the keys. We have time before Durin’s Day, and your safety is more important than any rash action.” Her lips quirked but before she could open her mouth, footsteps announced the arrival of breakfast and her freedom, and she was gone before he had time to stumble back to his bed. Gritting his teeth against the taunts of the guards, the king spent another day exercising as his mind shied from the enormity of the task before his burglar. Still, when she appeared full of news about rivers and barrels, Thorin could only smile and watch her animated face as she explained the lack of guards and how close the exit was. She didn’t seem as tired as she had the previous night, but as she burrowed underneath the sheets, Thorin stared as she pushed herself to his chest without saying a word. To distract himself, he found himself drawn into a comparison of the father of dwarves and the mother of hobbits before Bella yawned hugely, her jaw cracking as she grumbled and closed her eyes.

“Sleep, my Bella.” She smiled up at him before letting out a long breath and relaxing against his chest. This close, her scent was overpowering and Thorin spent the night trying to deal with the memories that lavender brought to him, memories he had thought lost. Music from Dale, snatches of conversation about feasts and trades and Erebor, reminders of a kingdom sure of its power and place in the world. A place he longed for the longer he was held in this cage, a cage he had been in for far too long. The elves had simply allowed him to see the bars.

He grew lost and all sense of the passage of time left him until he heard the footsteps of the guards approaching. Scrambling for the ring, he slipped it onto Bella’s finger and woke her as he put his hand over her mouth for a moment. She sounded bewildered and terrified, but the hobbit was as brave as ever, pressing a hand to his wrist before her scent left him as the door creaked open.

Heart hammering in his ears, Thorin managed to summon a pale imitation of the brooding mask that so irritated his nephews, and berated himself for allowing his own feelings to endanger the entire Company. He wouldn’t be surprised if Bella didn’t return for another few days, afraid of being discovered because her king could not keep her safe. Lost in recriminations, Thorin couldn’t make himself exercise or even try and work on the escape plan. When the faint scent of lavender wafted underneath the door, he had a moment’s warning before Bella knocked as she shoved something wrapped in thin fabric underneath the door. “Bella?”

“It’s bacon. I didn’t think the elves ate such things, and I know you haven’t had meat in a few days.”

“Thank you.” Kneeling at the door, Thorin ate her gift and made himself comfortable leaning against the heavy wood. “You’ve eaten, then?”

“What I could filch without arousing suspicion.”

“Explain.” She fell silent for long enough he would have feared she had left, but for her floral scent, and he matched her until he heard a quavering sigh.

“They don’t pay attention to the kitchen scraps. There’s enough crusts and things in there for me.”

“Then where…?”

“From a plate sent back to the kitchens. I had a bite or two myself.” She was eating their spoils. Thorin closed his eyes and forced himself to take two deep breaths before reminding himself of battlefield meals. This palace held many dangers, and she was using her wits admirably to disguise her presence.

“Very clever, Bella. How are the others?” She hummed under her breath for a moment.

“Hopeful, I think.”

“Only because of you. I insist you share my dinner.”

“I respectfully refuse.” Choking on his last bite, Thorin sat upright and turned to glare at the door. “If you weaken yourself you’re no use in an escape attempt. Do all dwarves think so foolishly?”

“The others and I are worried about you.” He couldn’t tell her how much he had feared for her safety as he had held her last night, and rested his forehead on the door before shifting back as he heard footsteps echoing above them. “They’re coming. Are you joining me tonight?” Only when the words spilled from him did Thorin realize the insinuation of his question, but the guards were too close and he stumbled to the far side of the cell, sick at the thought that Bella might have misinterpreted his innocent question. She did slip inside his prison when the door opened, judging by her scent, but even when the elves’ footsteps faded away, Thorin did not move and no hobbit reappeared. Steeling himself against her anger, the dwarf let out his breath and started to speak. “Bella, I didn’t…”

“Shh.” Her voice came from behind him, ghosting to his ears. “Guard.” Falling silent, Thorin went to the door and saw the smallest hint of a shadow from what he could see of the dimly lit hallway, and realized someone did lurk just out of sight. Going back to the bed, Thorin nodded, and heard Bella’s shaky whimper. If the elves suspected, all they would have to do was wait and leave them locked together, and the Company's escape would remain a dream. Thorin stood and turned from the door, finding Bella had removed the ring but was still crouched on the floor, arms wrapped around her knees. He held his finger to his lips and pointed at the bed, and while she hesitated she held out her hands and clambered to the mattress to sit at his side. “What are we going to do?”

“You’re going to sleep. And we’ll hope.” She opened her mouth, frowning, but glanced at the door and sighed before curling up underneath the sheet. Thorin sat upright next to her, ears straining for the slightest noise and one of his hands tangled in Bella’s hair, playing with the ends absently as he fought against sleep that threatened to engulf him. Bella had given him a rough sketch of the prison. She would have to start by freeing Ori, who was closest to the surface, and gather the Company one by one, ending with himself and then backtracking to the barrels. At each door there was the threat of capture, and once they were all free and creeping towards the wine cellar, the chances of meeting a servant on a random errand was too great. He did not want to kill in their escape; the king in him looked to the future, and the warrior in him shuddered back from killing off the battlefield. His grievance was not with the subjects of this realm.

No immediate solution presented itself, and Thorin glanced down at the slumbering hobbit by his side, what he could see of her face serene. Everything came down to what Bella could discover in the next few days, if she was granted her freedom. Despite the temptation, he kept his senses trained on the doorway, tensed for the unexpected arrival of his guards, but the night passed without incident and Bella put on her ring after waking, going to the door to facilitate an escape attempt while Thorin paced, hands clenched behind his back to hide his worry. Footsteps sounded and the door was thrown back, but no breakfast awaited and Tauriel stepped inside, two of her subordinates taking position at the door with weapons drawn. Hoping Bella had enough room to escape, Thorin sat on the chair as the Captain looked him up and down in silence for long moments before speaking, her voice clipped. “Dwarf, the King requires your presence.”

“I was unaware I could decline such an invitation.” Thorin stood, taking his time as Tauriel glared at him, tapping a knife against her palm. Her scrutiny, so unlike the dismissive gaze of the other guards, made Thorin fear for Bella. A small hand wrapped around his wrist, and the dwarf blessed whatever magic it was that gave her such an intoxicating scent, else he would have flinched away from her touch. He wished he could shoo his burglar away, but dared not even move his eyes.

“I grow weary of your clever tongue, dwarf.” Her glare sharpened, but Tauriel did not reach for manacles or rope. “I will trust to your honor that I will not bind you.”

“Then I thank you, Captain.” She turned, waiting for him to walk ahead of her, and Bella's grasp fell from his hand. Lavender wafted through the halls as he walked ahead of the Captain, obeying her instructions, but once Tauriel had him enter the great throne room, Thorin lost track of Bella. The torches were bright here, and he recalled her fear of having her shadow betray her as more guards flanked him as they wound towards the throne. Thranduil, sneer in place, waited with a familiar face at his side. Legolas had been part of the patrol that had captured him, but Thorin had been too distracted to recognize the Prince. Before Thorin could stop walking, the King was already speaking as he looked up at the ceiling, not even granting Thorin a glance.

“Have you given any thought to my question, Thorin?”

“You mean your demand.” Setting his feet apart and folding his arms across his chest, Thorin's lips twisted into a mocking smile. “You hold the safety of my people over my head, and you think I will meet your proposal with acceptance? Before I answer anything, I must know how they fare.”

“You are the only prisoner I hold.” Smile slipping at the evasion, Thorin glanced down at his boots and allowed the silence to drag out until he could keep his tone even. Perhaps the elves did not see the others of the Company as prisoners, but that they wished to keep both groups ignorant of the other seemed unnecessarily cruel.

“Without them, I am unable to believe anything else you say to me. Without them, my journey will not continue, must I wander these woods the rest of my days to make their grave.” The prince opened his mouth, but the King waved his hand and the young elf stepped back, assuming the blankness Thorin well remembered at his grandfather's side. “There is nothing more I wish to hear from you.” Thorin was about to demand he be returned to his cell when the faintest whiff of lavender told him Bella was nearby. “Unless you summoned me to inform me of my release.”

“You amuse me, dwarf. I did not think such a thing possible of your kind.” Thranduil laughed, speaking to his son and captain in their own tongue, both subjects nodding at their monarch’s words. Thorin didn't understand, but had a strong suspicion his burglar might have, and pressed again.

“You used to find us congenial enough as neighbors once. More to your liking than the current occupant.”

“You will not admit that removing the worm is the purpose of your journey?” Hissing at himself for alluding to Smaug, Thorin growled and lowered his brow, the surety of an arrow through his skull the only thing holding him in place. And the overwhelming arrival of lavender. Bella must be at his side, risking everything to keep him from making a mistake. Breathing through his nose, Thorin forced his muscles to relax and resumed his smile.

“You are the only one who has mentioned him. Where my kin and I journey is none of your concern, Thranduil, and will not alter the fate of your kingdom. You know many of my people reside in the Iron Hills, and the Orocarni to the south. Are communications between dwarves so interesting? You may have not entirely ruined the meeting if you let me go and aid me in locating my traveling companions.”

“Take him back to his cell, Captain. His lies irritate my ears.” Refusing to bend his head even when Tauriel grabbed his shoulder, Thorin forced the elves to drag him across the floor until they were out of the throne room. Lip curled in a sneer, Tauriel withdrew her grasp from him and folded her arms.

“You remind me of...tch, never mind.”

“Perhaps one of the other dwarves you hold?” Pleased at the widening of her eyes, Thorin mimicked her pose. “Probably one of the younger ones.”

“Impossible.” She whispered, face twisting into irritation before she caught his small smile and assumed another mask.

“You know little of us. Your lies, the outright mocking of my loss, has only demonstrated the lack. Take me back to my cell. I no longer wish to breath the air up here.” He had only taken three steps before Tauriel was at his side.

“The young one with dark hair. He has something of you about his eyes, though not enough that I would think you are his father.”

“I am not.”

“Family of some kind then. They are alive. And safe. But they will not walk free with their stubborn attitudes.” Laughing, Thorin shook his head and said nothing more, enjoying the thought of the Company frustrating their captors, bolstered by Bella’s presence among them as their secret weapon.

“Then I will look forward to my next interrogation.”

“I believe my King will not.” Thorin held his tongue the rest of the walk, and while Tauriel stayed quiet, she didn’t slam his cell door, and his food arrived soon after she left. He did not trust her for a moment, but the Captain seemed to be a more balanced leader than her king, and their positions were too precarious to antagonize the one decent elf in Mirkwood.  


That night, Bella missed the arrival of his dinner, and Thorin waited by the door until her breathless voice asked if he was safe. “Never mind me, what happened after I left?”

“The prince asked if the feast might be delayed to focus on the borders, and Thranduil argued with him. It is to be held soon, but I do not know when as of yet. I think we must be ready to leave that night.”

“A feast held by the elves of this palace could not be a better cover for escape. Your bravery is beyond imagining, my Bella. Is there a safe place for you to sleep?”

“Not really.”

“It’s too cold down here. Might you go to the others?”

“You think the corridors outside their cells are warmer?” Bella sighed, and he could see the slump of her shoulders, hear the defeat in her voice. “I will find somewhere safe to hide. And warm. There are many small nooks in the kitchen where I might sleep for a few hours.”

“And eat?”

“Of course.” She hesitated. “I don’t know when I might return, Thorin. I need to find out many things.”

“I am not going anywhere.” Unobserved, Thorin pressed his hand to the door and closed his eyes. “Stay safe, and return when you are able.”

“I will.” Alone, Thorin felt the true lack of freedom again, trying to breath as the dank smell of the earth rolled over him. He could not decide if the hope Bella now represented was harming or helping him. If he was here much longer, and she still failed at her impossible task, he worried he might do something rash to give her away to the elves, or one of the Company might reveal more than they meant to while being questioned. Durin's Day was never far from his thoughts, and without his burglar, Thorin felt his nightmares lurking and settled in for a fight.  

Several hours later, staring at the ceiling he had long ago memorized, Thorin ran the links of his golden chain through his fingers, searching for the break Gandalf had fixed while healing him on the Carrock. “The feast is in a week.” Starting to his feet, Thorin was at the door in moments, laughing in relief as blessed lavender filled the cell. “And I know where to find the keys.”

“My Bella. You are a marvel.”

“The elves seem to be losing interest in all of you. Aside from bringing you food they don’t even come close. I stole a blanket.”

“Does it...turn with you?”

“It does. This ring is very powerful.” She yawned. “But draining. I have never been so exhausted in my life.”

“I would not lay blame for that entirely on your ring. You are working hard for us, and I hope there will be some rest and comfort for you when we escape.”

“At least you still hope. Balin has been arguing about the barrels with me.”

“Tell him his King says there is no other way, and unless we find a secret tunnel in the next few days, the river is our only option.” Settling his back against the door, Thorin knew his doubts of before had been without merit and reached his hand underneath the door, starting as he encountered Bella doing the same. They sat in silence until she fell asleep, but her hand never left his until he woke her some hours later.

 

The next week, waiting for the feast, was the one of the longest Thorin had ever experienced, and if not for Bella his grasp on reality might have slipped. He could feel the passing of every moment but each day eventually ended. The day before the escape, Bella sat outside the door to go over the plan once more, and Thorin could feel her total focus as she counted the steps between each cell and how long it would take them to reach the wine cellar. “If we are caught, you put on your ring. We can come up with something to explain our escape.”

“Only if there is no other option will I abandon you.” Surprised by her aggressive words, Thorin could not help but recall the first time she had confronted him in the front hall of her pretty home and how terrified she had been. The determination in her voice only furthered the distance between the hobbit of some months previous. Bowing his head to her courage, Thorin replied as a King before a battle, tempering his brash _shomakhîth_.

“You do have the heart of a berserker. No wonder Balin and Dwalin see you as family.” Bella finally laughed, the sound muffled and he knew she covered her mouth. The rush of feelings at that image was enough to make him forget he was anything but a dwarf looking to win the attention of another. When she laughed, her eyes squeezed closed and her entire face turned into a series of curves and circles, and radiated joy like a fire. Thorin opened his mouth just as his last, incoherent thought echoed through his mind again, and his mouth closed with a snap. Tonight of all nights was not the time to distract them both from the quest. Talking to her with the door hiding them both had never been more of a blessing, and Bella broke the drawn out silence with an innocent statement that allowed Thorin to regain some of his shattered composure.

“You'll have to explain that sometime.”

“I will. But escaping unseen will only benefit the Company. Capture undoes everything.”

“Is that why you're a king and not a berserker?” Thorin snorted, shaking his head.

“Removing those instincts was the entire purpose of my early schooling. A battle leader needs a cool head and loses control with precision, not at the first sign of a fight.” Bella snorted, but Thorin hoped he was not imagining to admiration in her voice, however misplaced it might be in this instance.

“I think attacking Azog was more reasoned than Balin made you seem, then.”

“I'm afraid you're wrong. There was no thought put into my attack. Any other enemy I can face with reason, but the Defiler killed too many of my people, my family, for me to stay my sword.” Bella said nothing as Thorin recovered his breath, and her voice was heavy when she bid him farewell until evening.

 

With the delivery of a meager supper came the disinterested gaze of yet more guards, and the arrival of a certain scent Thorin greeted with relief. When he beheld his tired burglar shivering in the corner of his cell, he held himself back from embracing her by sheer strength of will and the memory of her fear. “Are you safe?” Bella uncurled as she replied, her hands trembling. She tensed as Thorin took a step closer, and he retreated to give her free passage.

“If you mean to ask if the elves do not suspect, they do not. I have been talking with the others. I think between your words and mine, they are willing to accept the barrels are our only option right now.” Bella climbed into bed and closed her eyes, her stolen blanket and his sheets creating a nest. Hesitant to approach, Thorin waited at the foot of the bed until Bella raised her head and glanced at him. “Are you going to stand there all night?”

Choosing honesty, Thorin spread his hands and kept his voice light. “I did not wish to scare you. Are you cold?” Her miserable nod convinced Thorin to join her, with the sheet between then and his arm wrapped around her torso, her shivers abating. Her skin was chilled but lacked the freezing edge that had so alarmed him before. By tomorrow night, they would be free, and this interlude that he had come to enjoy would end. He craved freedom, but he could admit to himself that the opportunity to be with Bella alone, to hold her and provide comfort as she fought for them was one he would miss. It was an unusual position for him, and Thorin felt himself in sympathy for Dís, left behind and unable to help except in thought. There could never be another time when Bella would seek his company in such an intimate manner, for once they had their freedom, she would have her own blankets again, and none of the others would tolerate him initiating any contact. And she would never ask if she was not in such duress as this. So he savored these last moments as an unexpected gift, resolving to treasure it as such as the quest continued. When Bella woke, he watched her face, and when she left, Thorin packed her belongings, securing the map and key in a pouch she had given him next to his skin to protect them from the river. Accomplishing the simple tasks seemed to make the escape real, and Thorin slipped Sting into its scabbard with satisfaction. Now, everything depended on Bella.

 

Dinner was early, and Tauriel herself delivered it, staring at him as he ate. “The others seem to be losing hope. They barely looked at me.” Pleased that the rest of the Company was obeying Bella’s instructions to appear broken, Thorin shrugged as he ate the generous portion of venison stew.

“This is more food than before.”

“I am afraid that your breakfast might be delayed.” Staring down at his feet, Thorin assumed his mask before meeting her eyes again. He wondered how much she suspected; telling her he knew the Company was with him had been a gamble, but elves were clever, and she must have been mulling over the problem the past few days. “I weary of seeing you all here. Tonight, there is to be a feast. All will be gathered in the upper halls, though I might join my friend the steward in the wine cellar instead. A good evening to you, Thorin Oakenshield.” Stunned, Thorin could say nothing as she closed the door and locked it. Bella knew the red haired elf held the keys, and was shadowing the Captain for an opportunity.

It seemed Tauriel was gifting them their freedom, and it left Thorin shaken as he went to sit down and wait. An hour had passed before he started to worry, but impatience could ruin everything and he forced himself to stay still, to trust Bella. Another hour was agony, the one after worse, but then the key scraped in the lock and the entire Company stood in the hall, Bella perched on Fíli’s shoulders and beaming. Thorin clapped Balin on the back and put his hands on his nephew’s shoulders, but Bella was already hissing at them to hurry. Everyone looked as tired and bedraggled as Thorin felt, but he saw suppressed smiles and hands clinging to friends and family after their enforced separation. He had been fortunate, in his way, having Bella to talk to during the long nights, and he wondered how the Company would recover from their isolation. He would give them time to rest, as much as he dared, if they could only reach Lake Town together.

“The captain and the steward drank themselves to sleep but they might be up already! Go!” They obeyed in a silent rush, following the tiny figure of the hobbit leaping up stairs and rounding corners in a path she must have practiced dozens of times, and they reached the barrel storage room. Thorin would admit to being overwhelmed at the precarious nature of their intended escape, and none of the other dwarves would even look at the barrels until he had to summon all of his authority. But it was Bella’s impassioned instructions that had the others moving, climbing into barrels and imploring Bella to set the tops in as tight as she could. And then it was just the two of them, but while Bella tried to push him to the barrel, Thorin froze.

“Who will close your barrel?” He had failed to spot the flaw in their plan, and now Bella might drown trying to escape. The elves were coming. Frantically, he grabbed her hair and stepped closer to her, pressing the back of his other hand into her cheek. “At least hold onto my barrel.” And if she fell, he would know. He could probably break the top off the barrel fast enough to save her. She nodded even as she hissed at him to move, the footsteps growing ever closer and laughter filling the air around them. He didn’t have the time for a kiss, and as she slammed the lid closed, he closed his eyes and begged that he might still have the chance, that this was not the last moment they had shared. He had wasted too much time in hesitating and second guessing his every move, and he could see she wasn’t aware of his increased regard.

Suddenly his barrel lurched, and every thought was driven from him as Thorin fought against the nausea of being rolled to the river, his head spinning until he closed his eyes and stopped thinking, allowing his body to hit the sides of his new prison until he heard water and had just enough time to hope he didn't end up head down before his stomach dropped. The barrel flew through the air and bounced against the water, leaving Thorin breathless and bruised. Something heavy hit the side of his barrel, and Thorin groaned, wondering if their ruse had been penetrated already. Then a small voice reached him. “Thorin?”

“Bella.” He gasped in relief. “Hold on, tight as you can.”

“I’ll do my best.” There was a muffled thump and she let out an explosive breath, laughing shakily. “We just passed through the water gate. We're free.”

“But if we're heading for...” Cursing, Thorin heard the roar of rapids. “Bella, hold on!” Before he could warn her, his barrel entered the raging tempest of water and stone his imprisoned heart had found convenient to forget.

A primal scream rang out over the water, and Thorin heard Bella sobbing above him as they spun sickeningly. He pressed his hand to where she clung to the barrel, trying to reassure her, but as they bounced off of rocks and danced in eddies, and he spoke to her, she said nothing. She was probably putting every ounce of her strength and concentration into her grip on the wood. The only indication Bella was even still attached to his barrel was the pull he could feel, a slight imbalance. It was all he had, so he focused on it, every time she shifted stifling useless admonitions. He lost track of how long they were thrown about by the endlessly shifting water, until with a violent jolt, the current smoothed and his barrel lay still as though beaten by the rapids. Bella's weight didn't move as he tried to regain his breath, and she didn't respond to his questions until he heard her coughing and gasping for breath.“Thorin?”

“I'm still here.”

“The river's calmed, but we've got a long way to go. I can see Erebor. The flanks and the ridge...” She coughed again, and shifted on the barrel. “I swallowed half of the river.”

“Rest, my Bella.” Closing his eyes, Thorin smiled. “You've earned it, and the river will carry us for a time.” The gentle rhythm of the river, combined with his exhaustion, had Thorin following his own advice before long, his body protesting the rough treatment of the past few months.

 

Laying in a stupor in the damp barrel, Thorin heard scrapings and realized he had been beached. The lid moved suddenly then stopped, and he heard Bella groan before the water soaked wood creaked and inched forward. Thorin put his hand in the middle of the lid and pushed as gently as he could, not wanting to hurt the tiny being who was probably putting all of her strength into tugging on the rough handle.

Despite his precautions, when the lid did give under their combined pressure, he heard her fall to the river bank with a muffled grunt, and tried to go to her before his legs cramped and he had to spend several minutes pulling himself free, intending to help the others. But when he saw Bella curled up on the moss, soaking wet and close to tears from the way her face was scrunched closed, he was overwhelmed by the danger she had put herself in and said the first thing that came to his brain. Her tart reply made him laugh, and his heart was light as he went to go find the others and let her rest. Bella had managed to find all of them. Next to be released was Kíli, who leapt from his container with a laugh, and Thorin sent his nephew to tend to Bella while he freed the others. Fíli joined them and the rest of the Company dragged themselves one by one to the bank, where they sat, most barely able to walk. Thorin helped Balin sit and turned to see Bella shaking violently, the skin that he could see white as marble. No.

“Fíli, Kíli! What are you thinking? You’ve seen frostbite before.” Both started then finally turned to look at the little hobbit pressed between them. Thorin turned and waved Glóin over, praying to Yavanna they could save her child. He spat instructions, unable to look from Bella’s glazed eyes, grateful beyond belief she had managed to keep her pack and tinderbox. Thorin had Dwalin push the barrels down stream so they would avoid detection, and the group withdrew into the woods and found a clearing. Nori was gathering wood with Ori, the brothers bickering as they snapped dead branches across their knees and Glóin knelt over the small pit he had dug with his hands, pulling out tree moss from the little wooden box he held in one hand and muttering about twigs. Bella stayed where she was for now with Fíli and Kíli; he didn’t want her to move until they had a fire. Glóin struck the flint and bent to tend to the sparks, skillful hands guiding the flame until it was consuming small twigs and he built the rest of the fire rapidly, setting logs just so, leaning back with a deep sigh and nodding to Thorin. “I’ll get one started for the rest of the lads.”

“She owes you her life, Glóin.” Thorin clapped his cousin on the shoulder, turning to see that she still huddled between his nephews. “Lads, get her moving.”

“Uncle, she’s not talking.” Kíli rushed over as Fíli stayed with Bella, trying to get her to stand. “I should have…”

“This is not time for blame. If anyone was to take it, it would not be you. She and I are the ones who conceived this plan and I did not realize she would be unable to have her own barrel.” Overwhelmed, Thorin closed his eyes, begging any of the Valar that might be watching to prove his words a lie. He should have held his tongue. “And she’s going to be fine.”

“Uncle.” Kili’s voice broke. “Please. Do what we cannot for our sister. I will not lose her.” They both watched her arrival at the fire, steps faltering and eyes unfocused, leaning on Fíli. Her brother glanced up, eyes anguished.

“She's slowing down.” Thorin knew it for a bad sign as he conferred with Fíli about what to do, the obvious solution too difficult to face. But Fíli was adamant as he helped Bella to the fire, glaring at his Uncle and voice hissing from between his teeth. “We have no blankets. Everything we have is wet, and we are too far from Lake Town. We can dry her clothes but she needs warmth, and a fire will not be enough. You said yourself she’s less likely to panic with you.” Thorin looked down at Bella, who was rigid and swaying on her feet, her lips blue.

“Dry her clothes, then. And I swear to Mahal, I see any of you looking over here, I’ll tell her and…”

“Uncle, none of us would.” Fíli helped his brother with the impromptu drying rack made from the string in her pack, leaving them alone. Thorin pulled his damp shirt off and draped it nearby, making sure his boots weren’t too close to the flames.

And he knew he was avoiding the task at hand, but Bella’s lavender scent drew his eyes back to her before he could stop himself. As their eyes met, he could not look away as he clumsily kicked his breeches aside and knelt to touch her shoulders, trying to gauge her response. If she had been ice before, now she was the heart of a glacier and Thorin gritted his teeth as she tried to answer him. Her soft sobs stabbed his heart as he took her wet clothes from her, and he started to talk to distract them both.

“You’re being very brave. I promise you, my Bella, if I could do anything else to save you I would.” He kept one hand firm on her shoulder to stop her from trying to run, knowing she would hurt herself. And with one final tug, she was naked before him, but Thorin kept his gaze firmly on her eyes until he gathered her close and sat near as he could stand to the fire, pressing her back into his chest and rubbing his hands along her skin, watching the color return and kept talking. “You keep getting thrown into these horrible situations, little hobbit. Great warriors would have hesitated to enter a clearing with three trolls and you went because you wanted to keep two dwarves from being punished. And you faced the stone giants and goblins as well as any of us could. When you were lost and alone you refused to surrender. So this isn’t going to kill you. Because you’re going to win back Erebor. I don’t know how yet. But you will. And we will sing songs praising you until we join with our Maker in the Undying Lands.” Suddenly she gasped and arched into him, a sharp cry escaping her lips, and he saw her skin was red, the blood returning to her limbs in a lifesaving moment.

There was nothing he could do but continue; he knew how badly it must hurt but did not stop, for she was not free from danger yet. He promised her all the things he could think of and she suddenly giggled, pressing herself back into his arms, and while she still shivered, her eyes sparkled as she glanced up at him. Breathing a deep sigh of relief, Thorin was about to ask Kíli if any of their clothes were dry when Bella turned in his arms, the soft skin of her stomach brushing against his bicep and her head nestling into his chest. One small hand rested on his stomach, the little wiggle she did to find a more comfortable position enough to send heat shooting from his gut to his brain. It was a miracle his face did not burst into flame.

Mouth dry, Thorin bent over her, finally allowing himself to feel her weight in his arms, even though he kept his eyes averted, focusing on her chin and mouth as she sighed his name so softly he wasn’t sure if he was hearing correctly. She was still cold, but the blazing fire seemed to be sending her to sleep as she yawned and mumbled. With a great effort, Thorin raised his head and looked past her drying clothes to see the rest of the Company huddled together, their thin under tunics and breeches draped over branches and rocks. “Kíli!! Is anything dry yet?”

“Almost, Uncle. Is she doing better?” Kíli kept his back to the lonely pair huddled together, the worry in his voice plain. Thorin glanced down at her hair before clearing his throat and answering, knowing he sounded angry.

“Somewhat. The moment something is dry let me know.” Thorin didn’t hear them say anything else, because Bella had chosen that moment to lean her head back into his shoulder, the firelight illuminating half her face, throwing her sweet curves and smooth cheeks into sharp relief. Before he could think, Thorin lowered his head, pressing his lips to the sensitive skin she had so trustingly exposed, tasting her before she jerked away from his touch and he realized what he had done. He stumbled over apologizes as she stared up at him with her big eyes wide as he had ever seen. And she smiled. Even as his arms fell from her, remorse heavy in his heart, she was burying a hand in his chest hair, saying only that he had tickled her. Not that his touch was unwelcome, that she never wanted him to touch her again. Insistent hands and eyes said she wanted him, but he could not trust himself any longer. Once she was safe, he would never lay another finger on her. Bella seemed to understand his inner turmoil as her small hand tightened on him and she frowned, her eyes dancing as she worried at her lip with small teeth. With a small sigh, she pillowed her head back on his shoulder and closed her eyes.

“I’m so cold.”

“I know.”

“Please don’t leave.” Thorin cradled her once more, thankful beyond words that he hadn’t frightened her away, until she shivered as the breeze from the river sent the trees shaking overhead, sparks dancing over her clothes.

With a shaking hand, Thorin reached out and felt his tunic, finding it dry and knowing her own garments would be ready. It was time to stop pretending she could ever ask an old dwarf to her bed, that she hadn’t slept in his arms for any other reason than she was freezing and there was no one else to go to. Thorin allowed himself to brush his hand over her hair before waking Bella from her doze and setting her on her feet, where she swayed and whimpered as Thorin left. Going to the other side of the fire, he chose a shirt and trousers and presented them to her before checking her coat was dry enough to use as a blanket. But when he turned and saw her dressed, she was scowling at him, hands planted into her hips. She looked pointedly at his damp braies and sniffed, though she still shook.

“You must take care of yourself, my King.” Her face shone in the firelight as she pointed to his clothes and demanded he go change. But her eyes said something else to him, and Thorin couldn’t break away. Worry. Fondness. Trust. No one had ever looked at him like this before, and that Bella, the tiny being from another race, could see anything in him worthwhile nearly sent him down to his knees. Then she dropped her eyes and shivered, wrapping her arms around her chest and freeing him. Thorin shook himself and made her sit close to the fire before stepping behind a tree and putting on the warm clothes with pleasure, hanging his braies where his tunic had sat. Bella called him softly, draped in her coat and still shivering. With a muted groan, Thorin knelt close to her and tried to think of what to say. But she took the burden from him. “Will you stay?”

“Always.” Thorin breathed, leaning back and staring into her eyes, searching for the slightest hint of fear or doubt and finding only a smile. “Just let me…” Something clattered nearby and he knew someone had brought more wood for them. “Never mind.” They silently negotiated how they would lay together, Bella facing the fire and letting Thorin cover them both in her jacket and other layers before he settled next to her, letting her pillow her head on his arm once again. Her little sighs and shivers as she pressed into his chest brought a smile to his face as he closed his arm over her and watched the fire, enjoying the warmth after the damp of the caves and Mirkwood. Bella didn’t stop shaking in his arms until the fire was just coals, and he eased away from her to put more wood down, his own aches from the barrel already fading.

Most of the Company slept, but he could see the distinctive outlines of Bofur and Dwalin at the fire, the lovers leaning into the other’s shoulder as they scanned the woods. Dwalin saw Thorin first and raised a hand, but did not move, and Thorin returned the wave before scooping an armful of fuel into the small fire, kneeling and blowing the flames higher. Standing here, across from the sleeping hobbit, Thorin finally allowed himself to thank Mahal for their safe escape, and asked that they could make it the next step of their journey without further trouble, though he dared not hope. Bella stirred, turning towards where he had been, her forehead creased and her lips parting. And this time he knew she said his name. In moments he was back at her side, feeling her forehead and sighing over the chill he still felt. They needed to get her into a real shelter in Lake Town, else she might still fall. The mere idea that someone so brave might yet die had him staring at the sky, looking for the slightest indication dawn might be close and they could approach Lake Town without being shot on the bridges.

Fortunately, Balin had been considering the same problem, and while Dwalin held Sting and Glóin instructed the others to hide the firepits, the king and councilor consulted as Bella slumbered in Thorin's arms. “Seeing that we have someone who is ill is the only thing that might stay the guards. Carry her in front, and we will stay apart behind you, to avoid the perception we're trying to hide anything.”

“Another risk.”

“I know. But after what we have faced, I think they will all follow you.”

“Glóin, are we ready?”

“Aye.” He was carrying what was left of Bella's pack, most of the clothes wrapped around her in a makeshift blanket held together with her faded jacket. Thorin set as fast a pace as he could manage, watching her skin pale and her eyes shine too bright as she tried to speak, her voice croaking intelligibly. Thorin could see she wasn’t aware of her surroundings and pulled her jacket tighter before following the riverbank. Dwalin caught up with him in moments, Sting a child’s training sword in his fist, but his oldest friend walked as though he wore the armor of a front line warrior.

“My brother is mad.”

“Your brother is a better strategist than you or I will ever be.” Dwalin snorted but didn’t contradict Thorin, who was quickening his pace despite the protests of his legs. “If we hurry, we’ll get there before supper.”

“I’ll take a warm bed first.” Thorin raised his eyebrow, biting back a tart reply as Bella turned in his arms. Keeping her still became his focus as the sun rose high overhead and dipped back towards the horizon, and finally Lake Town appeared as the Company staggered along the river. After a brief conference, Thorin stepped out in front, tensed for attack, but the guards on the bridge hesitated as he strode forward, daring them to stop him with every step.

“You will escort me to the Master. We were set upon in the forest and my companion required medical aid.” Bella’s whimper was well timed, and the two young men hesitated a moment too long. “You wish her death on your heads?”

“This way, Master Dwarf.”

“My companions will join us. We will not leave her alone.”

“Of course.” They gathered a crowd as they passed through the rickety town, Dwalin and Dori staying close to keep Thorin from jostling his precious burden. A large man, eyes hard, was waiting at the top of the stairs leading to the hall, arms folded and mouth set. Thorin could feel the unformed mob behind him, and took a deep breath before readying the hammer blow as the Master snorted before addressing the uncertain guards.

“Who are these bedraggled dwarves and why have they been allowed to enter our town?” The man’s voice whined, and Thorin tried to stop his sneer at the weakness displayed before he replied.

“I am the King under the Mountain, and I have returned to take what is mine.”


	14. Chapter 14

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> When the Company arrives in Lake Town, Thorin must balance finding new allies with his own personal feelings.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thank you all for your patience and support while I've been working on this monster of a chapter.

“I am the King under the Mountain, and I have returned to take what is mine.” The muted gasps of the Company meshed with the startled exclamations of the town folk, but Thorin kept his eyes on the Master, who was assessing the crowd and the miserable dwarves. “I am Thorin Oakenshield, son of Thráin, son of Thrór, of Durin's Line. Those who aid me will be rewarded beyond their wildest dreams when the dragon's stolen hoard is returned to its rightful owners.” Balin groaned in despair, but the Master's smile had become genuine, and the gathered throng cheered. Men were always predicable. Bella shivered again, turning into his chest and sniffling.

“Welcome, dwarves of Erebor! Lake Town welcomes you. Let us celebrate this auspicious moment!” Waved onto the rickety porch above the square, Thorin dropped his voice when the fat human glanced at Bella with distaste.

“We can celebrate later. My companions are cold and sick. Give us a place to stay and we will sup with you on the morrow. Surely we can trust to your kindness, and will not find our generosity lacking when we succeed.”

“But...” Thorin bared his teeth and the Master faltered. “On the morrow. Yes, your Majesty.”

“Where might we rest?” Thorin’s arms around Bella tightened as she moaned again, her eyes glassy when she looked up at them both. “She's falling ill as you waste time.”

“I will put you in the trader's house. Right over there.” The Master clapped his hands and servants appeared, obeying the flurry of orders hurled their way. Thorin was beyond caring, and ignored the other dwarves as he followed one of the humans into a large house, up the stairs and into a small room, joined by Óin, who shooed the hovering man away with ease.

“Is she going to live?”

“Go start boiling water. Get me blankets, and dry clothes. Tell Bombur to make tea and broth, as much as he can, and I will do my best to strengthen her.” Thorin turned to obey and Óin grabbed his arm. “I’ll be looking after her. The rest of you need the same treatments. Warm baths and bed for everyone. We need sleep and rest.”

“I’ll see to it. Once she’s safe.”

“She's as safe as you could make her.” Unbending, Óin herded Thorin towards the door and didn't move from the doorway until the king took the first steps downstairs. Most of the Company had collapsed on chairs and couches in the front room, though Balin and Dori were both gone.

“Get to bed, all of you. We'll eat later.” He knew they were tired when even Kíli didn't say a word, and Thorin watched them leave before going into the kitchen and found Dori standing on a chair and tending to a large kettle over the fire. Balin was sitting at the table, talking in a low voice that stopped when Thorin entered the doorway. “You two should rest.”

“You need your rest too.” Balin glanced out the window, where the dark bulk of Erebor blocked most of the stars, and sighed. “We'll get Óin what he needs.” Defeated, Thorin gave them Óin's demands, nodded as graciously as he could and retreated, finding the large room at the end of the corridor had been left for him alone. The bed was large, and the mattress stuffed with down. A better bed than he had occupied even back in the Blue Mountains, and Thorin was asleep before he could begin to worry over lost supplies and tired dwarves.

 

_The shadows in the gold writhed in the air, swarming around him and darkening his sight. He heard his name echoing through the caverns but the voice was distorted. A shadow broke free from the swarm and pierced his heart, but Thorin felt nothing as he fell to the cold ground and felt the heat of dragon fire begin to consume him._

 

He woke, sweating and disoriented, to singing and cheers audible even from his back bedroom, but there was also the smell of food, a welcome development. Fíli and Kíli were in the kitchen aiding Bombur, who was standing on a chair by the large oven, throwing bowls and plates to Ori and Nori in the dining hall. Pleased that spirits were high and that food had been delivered, Thorin investigated the pantry but was disappointed in his search for pipe weed. Breakfast made up for the lack, but Bella's plate returned untouched in Óin's hands, and the grim set of the healer's mouth set the Company talking of going into the streets to find provisions and herbs. Óin pulled Thorin aside, into a small study with a few books, and shut the door. “Wee lass is so tired and starved, her body is too weak to fight off the sickness right now. You need to give her a week at the least to recover.”

“How can she get stronger if she can't eat?” Óin shrugged, shoulders dropping as he sighed, massaging his temple with his fingers.

“There are some things I can do to help. If the herbalists and wise women will give me credit.”

“Take Bofur and Dori with you. I'll make sure no one else tries to haggle with any shopkeepers until you have what you need.” Óin left and Thorin went to Bella's room, finding Fíli and Ori at her side, telling her stories from the Blue Mountains. She was smiling, but her eyes were closed and she didn’t move. Thorin recognized the stillness of a body that could not move for pain, but stilled his tongue when he saw her smile. The stories were helping her. Bella loved her books and stories, and in the absence of medicine, her heart could be soothed by her family. Ori faltered in his recounting, but Thorin merely poured another glass of water and helped Bella drink before leaving.

The kitchen had no salt for Óin's cure for great thirst, and Thorin dithered in the front room for a moment, torn between a desire to go to the Master and demand aid and the stark knowledge such action would only hurt Bella and the rest of the Company. Instead, he went to the small study and found writing instruments and an old journal. Losing himself in old work, being a true King for a time and creating some small amount of order soothed him, and by lunch Óin had returned with enough herbs and tools to treat every bruise and hurt Mirkwood and the elves had inflicted on them all. It was a day of organizing and planning, but every so often one of the dwarves would glance at the stairs and lose concentration. The debt they owed their sister was ever growing, and even the sight of their home could not restore hope.

Arrival of a messenger and invitation to a great feast at the table of the Master the next evening was a distraction, and Thorin accepted with a gracious reply, one he was sure the wide eyed child would remember, and turned back to the table. “We need better clothes than these, and rest if we are to plead our case to these men. Dori, if you and your brothers could try and acquire something for us, I will see what supplies we might find.”

“And here I thought I had left behind tailoring at last.” But Dori's voice was not bitter, and Thorin knew the sons of Austri, celebrated weaver, would do their best one last time. Dwalin stayed behind with Óin, and Thorin went out into Lake Town to see what the celebrating crowds might be willing to part with for the promise of gold. He didn't have a chance, between answering breathless questions about his kingdom and intentions towards restoring Dale and reinvigorating Lake Town. He met several men and women who claimed their ancestors had been driven from Dale, and bit his tongue and demanding why they had been granted sanctuary when his family had been left to wander in exile, losing family and friends to starvation, but managed to maintain his mask.

The others of the Company had better luck in their acquisitions, and it was Bifur who rescued the belabored King from an increasing crowd. Retreat seemed the best option in the face of such intense curiosity, and Dori set to work on the clothes with aid from his brothers, allowing the others to tend to other duties. Thorin slipped away to gather himself and gave himself over to a brief sketch of a penknife to match Sting, clearing his mind in moments and letting the draft work focus his concentration. He knew one of the Company would come find him when they were ready, and it had been too long since he had indulged in any work for himself. “You didn’t need to proclaim yourself, lad.” Thorin turned from the oversized desk and his fancy, finding Balin standing in the doorway with arms folded behind his back.

“Tell me how we would have gotten Bella into a warm bed faster. Óin thinks we’ll be lucky if the fever abates in a few days, and that she'll need at least a week of rest.”

“You could have claimed we needed medical aid. Someone would have opened their house.” Thorin could not contain his scoff and winced as Balin leveled a glare, but replied anyway. Balin was no longer his teacher.

“You have a kinder view of these people than I.”

“Or you weren’t thinking of repercussions.”

“Balin. Is this about me, or Bella?”

“It’s about your actions that have us promising to pay five times what a bolt of cloth is worth for an old jacket. Why would I lecture you about our burglar?” Balin came closer and Thorin stared down at his hands, remembering his promises. The truth had been the greatest of his oath to Yavanna, and it was fitting to tell Balin first.

“I intend to see her crowned Queen of Erebor.” There was an indrawn breath and Thorin readied himself for the tongue lashing of a lifetime, but only silence greeted his pronouncement. Emboldened, Thorin looked up to see Balin steadying himself against the nearest chair, face as white as his beard. “And as she lay in my arms shivering, I was not about to let a human put her life in danger. Yes, I know we’re going to end up owing the people of Lake Town gold. What of it? If we succeed, we’ll never notice it’s absence, and if we do not, they made a poor investment.” Thorin could hear Thrór howling his protests across the years, and flinched away from the betrayal of the hoard. But Balin surprised him again.

“I’m pleased.” The old dwarf's voice was hoarse and he stared at Thorin as though his king had announced he was going to try and dual Smaug.

“That I don’t have the attachment to gold my grandfather did?”

“Gold? Lad, you’ve found someone you want to spent the rest of your life with, and you think I am concerned with gold?” Balin rounded the desk and grabbed Thorin from the chair, bringing their foreheads together before stepping back, keeping his hands on Thorin’s shoulders. “A being of such courage and conviction that she managed to save your life three times over? She will be such a Queen I could imagine no other helping us to rebuild. Does she know of your feelings?”

“I know not. Were she a dwarf I think she would, but I have been afraid to bare my feelings to her while we face the dragon.”

“I will not tell you what to do. I am your counselor, not your conscience.” Stepping back, Balin put a hand over his heart and left Thorin alone. Knowing he could trust Balin to hold his tongue, Thorin turned back to his sketch, and had any of the Company been with him, they would have remarked on the smile he could not hide, or the faraway look in his eyes.

 

Supper wiped the joy from his face and heart when he discovered how little the Men of Lake Town had sold to the dwarves they sung the praises of in the streets. Excuses would not get them to Erebor, and Thorin could feel his kingdom slipping from his fingers. Once the Company had barred the doors and windows, Thorin summoned Nori and Dwalin to his makeshift office. The songs of the townspeople, muted by the water and heavy wood, still grated against their ears as they conferred, and added to the tension between the poacher and the guard. “We must leave as soon as Bella is strong enough. Do whatever you have to do to complete our outfit.” Nori grinned. Just by asking the reformed poacher, Thorin was making a point, and Dwalin nodded.

“It will be done.”

“Take your time. The rest of us will draw the eyes of the crowds. If you're caught we'd be fortunate to avoid prison again.” He deserved the scornful glance Nori gave him, but Thorin had to say it. The duo left him and he sighed. He would pay back whatever was taken ten times over to ease the guilt he felt, but he couldn't focus any longer and left to relive Bofur from the ceaseless vigil at Bella's side. Once Bofur heard of the new plan, he grinned and tipped his hat, saying the duo would be hung by the ankles if he didn't help them, and Thorin waved the miner to go, knowing he alone could force Dwalin and Nori to work together without complaint. But all other worry fell away as he sat by Bella's side and she whispered his name, holding out a hand from her nest of blankets.

Thorin didn't know what to say as he held her small hand and watched her fitful doze. He found himself talking about the Blue Mountains and his life there, how they had made the ruined fortress as comfortable as they could, about the beds of coal that were their only wealth, how it made some of them sick and why they had to be on the road most of the year instead to keep from breathing in the black dust. She listened, squeezing his hand at long intervals to let him know she was still awake, but kept her eyes closed. He talked himself hoarse, and Bella stirred as he poured them both some water. “You should sleep, Thorin.”

“I will in a few hours.” He replaced the cloth on her forehead and she sighed, an appreciative sound that twisted inside of his chest. He could all too well imagine her making that noise lying next to him, and closed his eyes. She would be better soon, and he would proclaim his intentions to court her. Until then, he would enjoy the time they could share.

 

All too soon, the time of the feast had arrived, and the Company was still struggling to find traders willing to part with rope or weapons. Nori refused to take anything, but spent hours finding the safe routes back to their loaned house, and places to hide ill gotten goods. Thorin's head ached as he stood in his room to get ready, and if he was honest with himself, the rest of his body did too, but he needed to pay the price for the safety of his family. The clothes Dori had cut down and hemmed were ridiculous, but Thorin combed his hair, taking care with the silver and mithril beads that would be the only sign of his status, making sure they gleamed against the plain brown of the woolen jacket he wore.

Before leaving, he knocked at Bella's door and found Kíli at her bedside, telling her a story, but the young dwarf fell silent at his uncle's appearance. Returning his sister-son's nod and moving with care, Thorin stepped to the tall bed and brushed some of Bella's hair from her dry, hot skin, and pulled the blankets higher, covering the white skin of her neck with a sigh. She stirred, but the glassy look she gave him had no flicker of recognition, and in moments she seemed to fall back into her sleep. That he might lose her before he could confess his newfound love pulled at him to stay, but his duty came first and Thorin turned towards Kíli with relief when the young dwarf began to speak.

“Óin was here a bit ago. Said she's not getting worse, and made her drink broth.”

“Stay with her while we're gone. And you'll have to come to the next gathering.” Kíli winced but nodded, dutiful to the last, even as he turned back to his sister. Allowing himself one last glance at the small hobbit, Thorin squared his shoulders and left, finding the rest of the Company gathered in the front room, all attired in human cast offs and holding ill sized daggers in their belts. Thorin had Sting, and it felt good to have battle tested steel at his side as he pushed out of the doors and faced the ever growing crowd of curious humans. It had been a long time since he had assumed the guise of King, but he nodded and waved, taking slow steps and forcing a pathway to form across the square without resorting to pushing.

The Master, fat face creased into a smile that bared too many teeth, made Thorin climb up the stairs to join him before bending his head as though Lake Town held equal standing. If Bella and Kíli were not alone in a house surrounded by the Master's men, or the fate of his people hanging on every word, Thorin would have turned around. Two deep breaths allowed him to return the same gesture, and wave a hand at his Company.

“The dwarves of Erebor are pleased to reunite with our allies of old. The Men of Esgaroth were long our friends.”

“We welcome you, Thorin son of Thráin, and look forward to the reopening of Erebor's gates to the benefit of all.” With the pleasantries exchanged, the dwarves were invited inside, and Thorin jerked his head at Nori and Dwalin. They scowled at him but moved off to obey Balin's plan. Thorin introduced Fíli as his heir, and saw the relief and approval flicker across the faces of the men at the table. And when he casually mentioned that Kíli regretted his absence, as the last of their group was still convalescing, broad smiles greeted the news that the Line of Durin still flourished.

“And your other companion? Is she a dwarf child?” The Master leaned in close, sneering over his goblet of wine, and Thorin held himself still, refusing to turn his head to meet the human's eyes.

“She is no child. She is a hobbit, from the West.” Thorin tried to keep the growl from his tone, only managing to keep it to a muted snarl. “And a braver being I have yet to meet.” The subject turned to the decades long absence of the dragon, the oft repeated assurances that he was dead belied by the nervous glances to Erebor, which loomed even through the small windows in the hall. The wine was good, the food plain but plentiful, and overall the Company seemed to be getting on with the regular townsfolk. The High Table, rickety trestle table belying the title, was a quiet contrast to the general festivities. Fíli was stroking his mustache, hiding a frown, and Thorin found himself wondering how Bella might have undone the tension with her gentle words and diplomatic understanding, but could only muster terse replies to the unsubtle queries after his gold, until the late hour forced an end to the human's merriment and the dwarves' patience.

Even now, there was a group around their borrowed home, and Thorin thought he recognized a tall, dark man, but dismissed the thought. It had been several generations of humans since the dwarves had fled, and the line of Dale had been extinguished with Girion's death. “Are you truly Thorin, son of Thráin?” The man did not step out into the dim light of the torches from the porch, but Thorin sensed no threat and slowed.

“You question my claim?”

“I wonder if you realize what you go to face.” Dwalin snarled, but Dori wrapped a strong hand around Thorin's sword arm, hissing under his breath.

“We're being watched. Get inside and we'll deal with him later.” Releasing Sting's hilt, Thorin nodded and watched the man fade away into the shadows on silent feet. But he did not voice his suspicions until the door was barred and Óin left to see to Bella.

“If I had not heard the stories, Balin, I would have thought the lord of Dale stood before us.” Balin hesitated, and hedged his words. Thorin never expected Balin to follow him with blind faith, and could tell the only other Erebor born dwarf was shaken.

“There was a resemblance. His son was but a babe when the dragon came.” Nodding, Thorin turned to address the group.

“Nori, I want you to try and find him tomorrow, and see what he wants.”

“Should be simple.” Kíli came clattering down the stairs, and grinned at the tired dwarves.

“She slept almost the entire time you were gone. Óin says he thinks the fever will break soon.”

“It had better.” Distracted, Thorin lost the half formed thought that had risen when Nori had spoken, and grabbed Kíli as he attempted to go back upstairs with the rest.

“You get this watch. Then your brother, and then Ori. By then someone will be awake.”

“Who's going to be with Bella, then?”

“Me.” Ignoring Kíli's smile, and hoping Balin had been discrete, Thorin went to Bella's door and found her sitting up with Óin's help, supporting her as she held a mug of steaming tea to her lips. She slumped back to the pillows without a word, and Óin put a hand to her forehead, frowning, but only snuffed one of the candles and left, saying he would return with more medicine in a few hours. At least there was honey to sweeten the bitter concoctions, and plenty of clean water. Settling down into the large chair, Thorin watched Bella's face, seeing the signs of fever, breathing in lavender mixed with a copper tang and knowing he was smelling her illness. She stirred and opened her eyes, making him twitch with surprise.

“Water.” Her croaking voice became more normal after, and she did not fall back into a restless doze, but asked after the banquet, especially the towns people's reactions to the quest. Saying little, she worried at her bottom lip and toyed with the end of her braid. Kíli had given her braids of a princess, appropriate given their sibling closeness, though Thorin noted with some amusement his sister-son had given her those of an older sister. Some tendrils clung to her forehead and Thorin wished he was bold enough to brush them away, but kept his hands at his sides as he told her more and more of his observations. Mid sentence, her eyes fluttered closed, and he eased one of the full feather pillows away and tucked the blankets around her shoulders, ghosting a hand over her forehead and flinching back from the heat of her skin.

The fire was dimming to hot coals, and he added two logs, positioning the pine logs with care so they would burn until morning. The sick room air was close enough to a forge to be uncomfortable, though Bella shivered and curled up into a little ball underneath the layers of wool as Thorin turned back to her. He shrugged out of his outermost layer and put the cut down coat over her, and she relaxed, whispering something he couldn't understand as she turned to her side, a hand creeping out from her cocoon to rest by her cheek. Thorin dozed at the side of his beloved, waking to find her unchanged, and once to help Óin give Bella more of her tea.

When Nori and Dwalin, uncomfortable in the other's presence but more companionable than months previous, arrived to speak to their King, Bella was alert enough to greet all of them, the three dwarves all gathering around her so she didn't have to raise her voice and all watching the high flush in her cheeks with worry. “You aren't hungry, little burglar?” She shook her head and Nori frowned, tugging at his beard queue while casting a worried glance at Thorin. “Not even for tea? Not Óin's herbs, but real tea.”

“That sounds nice.” She leaned back into the pillows and glanced out the window, smiling. Nori nodded, hiding a grin the dwarves knew too well, and subsided as Dwalin cleared his throat.

“There's pipe weed to be had, from the Shire no less, and we've replenished our stores. Bifur fixed your pipe. Just a little banged up from the woods and the river, lass, no need to widen your eyes like that.” Dwalin kept his arms folded, but the note of pleading in his voice was startling, though Bella seemed mollified and closed her eyes.

“I will return in a moment, Bella.” Jerking his head, Thorin led the two into the hallway and told them his idea in a few brief words, the wolfish grins they shared letting him know he had chosen well. He didn't want to hear their plans yet, and returned to find Bella trying to grasp the heavy ceramic mug that was sized for hands far larger than her own, and saved her from spilling water everywhere. “Careful, darl...Bella.”

“This is ridiculous.” She grumbled as he held the glass to her lips, closing her eyes. “I'm as weak as a kitten and Durin's Day is in a month.”

“Which means we have a little time to regroup and let you recover. We're not ready to leave yet.” She smiled, even as she fell back to the pillows, the latest herbs doing their work. He voice was stronger, at least, and they talked until she fell asleep. Sometimes her words made no sense, and Thorin wondered if the fever was affecting her speech still, or if she was tired enough to let a secret slip. That she might trust him enough never crossed his mind until he had left her with Dori and a pot of tea, but the thought warmed him as he went to go eat and go over plans with Balin and Bombur, even as they worked long into the night determining what rations they could get by on until Durin's Day and possibly beyond. In the days that followed, they began to make progress, and though September was drawing to a close, Thorin began to feel real hope the Company could strike out for Erebor with enough time to reach the hidden door.

 

Nori and Bofur had contrived to meet with the stranger with the face that belonged in the past, and found he was called Bard. More, he claimed direct descent from the Lords of Dale. Getting him to the conspicuous house near the center of Lake Town was another challenge that tested Nori’s skill, but soon enough Thorin was standing in the front room and confronting the stranger. “Let us set apart distrust in the other's lineage, Thorin. The Master is using you for his own ends. I doubt he means to provide the support he has so grandly promised.”

“You can help us instead?”

“I do not have his obvious wealth, but there are enough from Dale that he dare not move against me. If you can wrangle supplies, I can find you a ship and ponies.”

“And a crew? We have little skill with boats, especially not boats built to your scale.” Bard hesitated, but nodded.

“It will take a little longer, but I believe I can find enough. I can not be seen to be aiding you openly, else I would pilot the craft myself.”

“We appreciate your offer. And your terms?”

“Terms?” Bard drew himself up and folded his arms. “I am no merchant, to put a price on an old alliance.”

“And terms do not mean gold.” Thorin growled, keeping his hands at his sides. “Dale suffered as we did. If we regain Erebor, Dale will flourish again. But we would make such promises formally, and not simply imply them. You have forgotten much of us, it seems.” Bard’s face softened, but his stance did not for a long, silent moment.

“Perhaps I have, Thorin. I did not mean insult. Any chance to remove Smaug, however slight, is a worthy cause, and I will provide you with a small warehouse where it might be easier for us to provide you with what you need.” Their talk went better after, and Bard slipped away with Nori to finalize the promise.

“And so we’re trapped in politics once more.”

“Aye.” Thorin nodded as Balin shook his head, lamenting their fate. “But we have little choice. And now, if you’ll pardon me, if I do not get some sleep I will be useless to keep the Master satisfied.”

“A good idea for all of you.” Óin waved his new hearing trumpet, a gift from one of the wise women he had been consulting with to help Bella and fixed Balin with a gimlet stare. “Even you, old dwarf. You might be acting hale, but I can see the exhaustion you try and hide.”

“Meddling old fool.” Thorin only shook his head as the two cousins grumbled at the other even as they made their way upstairs, and went to his own room to avoid being drawn into the decades long argument, but dreamed again of corrupted gold and dragon fire, and found little rest for his troubled mind. There was a loud yell from the hallway and Thorin’s eyes snapped open with a snarl. He was exhausted. Everyone was. And he was certain it was Fíli yelling. The lad still acted as if he were a youth of twenty, not a proper dwarf and Prince.

He stomped out into the hall, hearing loud clattering from downstairs and made his way there in a black humor. Voices rang from the kitchen and he threw the door back, finding Fíli standing with a plate piled high with bread and ham, frozen, face a picture of guilt when he saw his uncle. Thorin opened his mouth when a giggle sounded behind him. Turning slowly, he saw Bella in an over large tunic of grey wool, her eyes bright and her skin no longer flushed, hand covering her mouth as she looked at his face. Thorin felt himself smiling as he stepped forward, and he took her hand before he knew what he was doing. “Bella. You look bea…better. Much better.” Her eyes had lost the glassy look of even yesterday, and her hand was cool in his. There was a certain gauntness to her face he had not noticed before and he grieved that he had robbed a healthy hobbit her meals, and hoped she could make up the lack in their last few days before they sailed to the Desolation.

Bella grinned and ducked her head, and the two royals spent some time feeding her whatever she wanted until they heard the others making their way downstairs. As selfish as Thorin had become about his time with Bella, he knew the rest of the Company needed to see her well, and brought her to the dining room where she was pampered from all sides until she threw up her hands and proclaimed she couldn't eat another thing. Thorin had sent his regrets to the Master for dinner, saying the Company needed to see to their own for the night, and barred the doors and windows to the gathered crowds. Balin sat at Bella’s side, making sure she didn’t eat too fast, and Thorin hung back, admiring the way she directed the Company with gentle words.

A Queen of Erebor had to be a diplomat of the highest skill, keeping her mountain connected to the wider world while the King kept it strong. Lost in his musings, wishing he could tell Bella the full shading of the dwarven title he meant to bestow once Erebor was theirs. There was no word like it in the tongue of men. Men would call her Queen, for her gender, but the word barely began to describe her role, and Thorin hated to use it even though he had fallen into the habit long ago. She would be _Melhekhinh_ , and already Thorin could see her clad in the finest robes their weavers could design, her body glittering with untold treasures.

It wasn't until an elbow dug into his ribs that he realized he was being addressed by Dwalin, and forced himself back to the present. The rest of the night, he was careful to not let his gaze linger on Bella's too often, but she was adorable sitting and smoking with them, wrapped in a blanket and squished between Fíli and Kíli on a bench, all of them sharing her pipe and sending smoke rings flying around the room. Thorin missed his own pipe and regretted he could not indulge in the simple joys he had long taken for granted. But pipes were not a necessity, and he could wait to cast another.

In the meantime, he could at least enjoy the fragrance of what Bella called Old Toby, and add inscriptions to the little pen knife in his head. It could be the start of a series of gifts, perhaps a full writing set in matched silver and mithril, engraved with whatever flowers Bella might desire. A silver case for her pipe could replace the lost carving, lined with green velvet or even silk, if trade could be reestablished to the south fast enough. His musings were interrupted by a log falling apart in the fire, and watched the reflective spell fall from his family. In silent agreement, they went to bed, Balin taking the first watch after seeing Bella to her room and making sure she had enough water and herbs, and Thorin listened to them argue about the book she had taken from the study, a history of Dale that had escaped dragon fire to end up in her room. Balin emerged with the book but without the candle he had tried to confiscate so the little burglar would sleep, shaking his head. “Hobbits!”

“Dwarves!” Bella called from behind the door, but her fond tone undercut any insult and Balin went away smiling. Thorin managed to suppress his laughter until he was alone in his room. He had seen the cover of the book Balin had carried in such triumph, and knew it for the decoy it was. Hobbits indeed. A more stubborn, captivating being could not have existed, and he would forever be grateful Bella had chosen to follow him on this mad quest, however it might end.

 

_The lower caves of Erebor had been left in their natural state, full of pools that filtered through the rock from the River far overhead. Torchlight made his shadows dance all around, a strange procession that wound round pillars and through tunnels. “Where are we going?” His voice ran out and received no answer. His shapeless guide, who hovered at his shoulder, pointed him towards a cave he had never seen before and faded away into the darkness. Groping forward, Thorin found a square shape underneath his hands and reached out to feel for more when light hit the marble and illuminated a name. Before he could make sense of the runes, he was in darkness once more, but he woke kicking and afraid._

 

The next night, Bella was invited by name to the now customary feast at the Master’s table, and despite his misgivings, Thorin accepted. Dori and the hobbit spent a few hours with needle and thread turning a child's green tunic into a serviceable dress, though she was heard to sigh when she held it up and examined it with a critical eye. But she didn't complain, and Thorin couldn't help the lingering glance he gave her as she walked at his side through the curious crowds. The neckline laced closed to the hollow of her neck, modest as anything, but the laces started low and he could see the smallest hint of her binding. Cheeks burning, he jerked his gaze away, furious that he had so insulted his rescuer, and was terse with the Master. Bella smoothed over the moment by delivering a beautiful speech thanking the man for his aid to her in her time of need, and made much of Lake Town without ever promising anything beyond a kind thought.

With her at his side, Thorin found the feast almost enjoyable, and he was allowed to stay silent as she was asked question after question about the West and hobbits in particular. She didn't tell much beyond the basics, and the Master focused on the pipe weed her people sent out into the world, and she proved her knowledge as dinner passed through three courses and wound through singing and drinking. The Master ignored them both for a time, circulating among his people and speaking of the riches soon to come while Bella yawned and rested her head on Thorin's shoulder. “If you want to leave, there's no obligation for you to stay. Even Men make allowances for health.”

“I should. I feel like I'm going to fall asleep here.” She didn't move her head and Thorin wrapped an arm around her shoulders, intending on helping her stand, but staying where he was when she yawned again, jaw creaking. The music and laughter grew louder, breaking the spell, and Thorin dropped his arm when he saw the thoughtful gaze of Bard.

“Fíli, Kíli, help your sister back to the house. We'll join you later.” They left, and when the Master returned, Thorin was ready with apologizes. As he had expected, there was little interest in her, since she did not bring promises of gold and power, but Thorin was able to use her absence to hasten their own departure. Before he could walk inside, however, he heard a soft whistle from the same dark alley Bard had used to approach before, and went to the kitchen door to admit the grim man.

“You cavort with the Master and his men overmuch.”

“Cavort? You mean attempt to deflect suspicion while we wait on you. Had I any other choice, I would not be here, Bard.” The man scowled, but at least acknowledged the plan the two had agreed to before switching topics.

“Who is she?”

“She is our companion.”

“She looks like a child.” Bard snapped. “You think you can take her to face Smaug?”

“Bella is no child. I know you've two daughters and a son, but Bella is well into her majority. If I do not miss my guess, she's older than you.” Bard smiled and Thorin knew there was one man who could see past his bluster.

“Then you do care for her more than the Master indicated.”

“He is a fool.” Thorin spat, needled that he had exposed Bella to Bard’s scrutiny when he had still failed to tell her the truth. No one besides her family deserved to know. Bard shrugged, but stopped talking about the burglar and addressed Thorin’s observation.

“You will get no argument from me, but he keeps this town running and his family united the populations of Dale and Esgaroth long ago. This is not a kind land.”

“We will make it kinder if we could be given more aid. What of the boats?”

“I found some men who are willing to land you there. You must understand. No boat has touched that shore since you left. They do it out of loyalty to Dale, not Erebor.” Thorin managed to suppress his annoyance at Bard’s constant reminders that Erebor would owe Dale, in spite of the fact that it was the dwarves, not the men, who were risking their very lives to reclaim their home, and saw the dour man away with relief. October had arrived with a storm two days ago, and now that the month was upon them, Thorin’s patience wore ever thinner as he was kept from resuming his quest. He threw himself into the preparations to distract himself from the wait and from Bella’s improving health, now unsure how he might broach his desire for her without coming off as a fool.

He resolved to wait until they were gone from Lake Town, and decided to give her three of his hair beads if she accepted. Two were his mother’s, and were hidden behind his left ear in a small remembrance braid, but she would have been the first to rejoice her son had found a partner. The other was one of his own make, covered in his own sigil, and the thought of seeing Bella’s hair woven in braids was enough to sustain him as he waited for Bard to announce success. His patience was rewarded when he was summoned to an out of the way alley and greeted by Bain. His news was good. The last few lengths of rope and two more ponies had been delivered to the hidden warehouse, a crew had been secured for the two boats, and Thorin returned to the house to announce their imminent departure. He was met with smiles, but no more, and he knew all thoughts had turned to the dragon. He had seen the smoke spiraling around Erebor's peak, and had to push away memories of Smaug's claws pinning him to the ground, and nightmares of the sheer heat of dragon flame.

Bella alone seemed untouched by such thoughts, but she had not been raised on stories of Smaug's power and murderous obsession with gold, the sheer horror he had visited on the dwarves of Erebor. Thorin had everyone pack all but the few things they might need for the night and morning, and line their new packs in a neat line in the front room. Bombur and Bella worked together to make a large meal, using up all of the food they had been given and some they hadn't been, though when Thorin was called to the table he found a contemplative silence he was loathe to break. As he ate, the hairs on the back of his neck prickled, and he froze.

Someone was looking at him. He could feel their gaze, but every time he glanced around the silent table, everyone was staring at their plates. Then he saw green eyes peeking at him from behind shining curls. And for the rest of the meal, her eyes were on him again and again. When they finally had eaten what they could, most started to clean and make noise about getting ready for bed, but Thorin made his way to her side. “Aye, Halfling?” She blushed but smiled, her soft voice asking him to speak in private. Confused, but willing to listen to anything she might have to say, Thorin led her to a private study and watched how uneasy she seemed. He had thought they trusted one another more, but Bella couldn’t look at him as she confessed her thoughts about the road ahead. All of which he shared, knowing them to be true. But she did not say what he most feared. She wasn’t going to leave him. Her courage was astonishing. He admired the delicacy of her nose as she stared out the window when the import of what she said hit him and all breath left his body, leaving him gasping as she fell silent. Before he could think, he was on his knees in front of her, disbelieving until she met his eyes and he saw nothing but absolute trust as she whispered something.

She had been set in front of him as though forged to fit his every broken edge and weak flank, a perfect Queen to offset his inadequacies as King. Restraining himself from kissing her then and there, Thorin offered use of his rooms, knowing the bed there was larger and more comfortable, and named her brave. The name fit her, but ever as Thorin said it, he knew it couldn’t be part of her true name. It was too limiting, and he put that problem aside as Bella disappeared and the door opened as though the wind had gusted by his cheek.

He stood still, breathing in and out until he thought he could walk. She had left him defenseless. For all his agonizing and planning, she had asked first, and he wondered when her feelings had changed, when she had ceased to see him as a mere traveling companion. He could remember the flush on her cheeks whenever they had spoken in the Misty Mountains, and dared to hope she had begun to see past his misplaced anger before he had nearly sent her away. A shout of laughter brought him back to the present, and he could not stop the smile that spread over his face, or the knot that was forming in his stomach. He recognized his fear as similar to what he experienced before battle, but managed to make his way to his pack, finding the small tin of salve he had purchased out of long habit, and a clean length of toweling. His fingers were clumsy and he had to kneel for long moments over his belongings, his heart loud in his ears. Suddenly Fíli was at his side, pipe already lit. “Uncle, come and smoke with us. Nori pinched some from the Master’s own barrel, better than what the townspeople sold us.”

“I am too tired. Enjoy this last night of rest, sister son.” Fíli stared down at him and his eyebrows furrowed.

“Too tired? Uncle, do I need to worry about you?” And then Fíli’s eyes lit on the little tin Thorin hadn’t concealed. Everyone else was in the main room. Except for Bella. The Prince’s eyes went wide and his mouth dropped. “You…” Thorin kept his voice low but hammered his words into an order, to keep Bella from being embarrassed by the traditional cheering and teasing that might otherwise accompany a _sanzarira_.

“Not a word.”

“Of course not.” Fíli whispered and coughed into his hand, his cheeks red. “I will see you in the morning.” He fled and Thorin snorted a laugh he couldn’t suppress in time. Tucking the tin away so no one else could see it, he stood and made his way to the stairs, taking them one at a time, stopping halfway and leaning against the wall, trying to breath. He had wanted this for months, but now that the moment had arrived he wasn’t sure he could give Bella what she wanted. Or if she even knew what she wanted. There was such possibility to frighten her, or hurt her. He was not boasting when he thought of himself as a large dwarf, and she was small enough he could break her using one hand. He raised his head and continued up the stairs. If she was brave enough to ask, he could only match her courage. The walk down the corridor had never felt so long and he put his hand on the latch when he paused. Barging in seemed rude, and frightening. Instead he knocked, and after a long pause she bid him to enter.

Bella was curled up on herself in the over large chair, hands wrapped around legs and chin propped on knees, hair falling over her face, but she looked up as he entered, eyes soft. Thorin barred the door and stepped closer, his throat closed around his words. The air itself felt as though a storm approached, heavy with promise, but the lovely being who was the entirety of his world held out her hand and at her touch, his body relaxed. This was no battle he faced, but a chance to find lasting happiness, and his words came easier as they climbed into bed and Bella came to sit at his side, entwining her fingers with his and pillowing her head on his shoulder. Discussing how to begin seemed to ease her nerves, and the smoldering look in her eyes when she granted permission to be kissed and then asked him to disrobe had his cock twitching before they even touched.

Being invited to touch her bare skin, seeing the rising flush in Bella’s cheeks and the smile in her eyes, had Thorin casting his eyes aside, the lessons of his mother rising unbidden, mingled with memories of his own _sanzarira_. But this was different, and he knew he needed to take the lead before she grew frightened.

Swallowing his fear, he turned and was caught in the change that had come over her face, and her fingers were plucking at the laces that had been taunting him for days. She paused and let her hands fall to her sides as he asked permission to disrobe her, and he kept his movements small, slow, watching as bare skin was revealed, and her sweet invitation to touch combined with the seductive wiggle of her shoulders melted the very last of his hesitation. She was, as she insisted, no treasure of blown glass, but a living, yearning being who knew what she was asking for. Finally, he could look at her naked form without anything but desire. Now, he saw generous curves and skin that glowed like pearls in the low candlelight. She had no scars, and the hair that he could see was light and delicate, not like anything he had touched before and he wanted nothing more than to take her. But tonight was not for his wants, and he pressed his lips to hers, deepening the contact when she sighed into him, insistent hands tangling in his hair in the most intimate way imaginable. She tasted of pipeweed and lavender and something else, wild and tart and altogether intoxicating.

He could spend all night exploring the soft sighs that changed when he kissed different areas of her lips and mouth, each more inviting than the last, but Thorin finally broke away from her, chest heaving as Bella moaned for him, her little hands tugging at his hair, demanding he start over. “I have much more to offer you than kisses, Bella.”

“I like your kisses.” Her enticing lips pursed and Thorin consumed her, rolling to his side so he could pull her close, skin to skin. She was pliant, less hesitant than he had feared, and her gentle demands, a hand to his cheek, a sigh as he touched her waist, allowed him to map her body, searching for everything that brought her pleasure. When Bella grabbed his hand Thorin could not help the laugher that bubbled in his chest. She broke away from him, gasping, and smiled as he put a hand to her cheek, telling him she wanted more. He knew what she meant, but he was not yet prepared to take her without giving much more, and moved his lips down to her full breasts, her soft stomach, further down, hands grasping at thighs when her entire body stiffened, and Bella whimpered. Recognizing his mistake even as he pushed away, Thorin watched as she closed her eyes for a brief moment before she was chasing him, making him bow to her courage and obey her in her _sanzarira_. He was aware of each movement his hands made as he placed them back on the outer edge of her legs, letting her skin warm under his touch as they kissed.

“Show me.” He dipped his head between her thighs and found her wet, her little clit hidden in her sweet folds that he parted with his tongue as slowly as he could, listening to her breathing hitch as his tongue wrapped around the soft nub. Her taste was musky, overlaid with soap and her ever present lavender scent, and Thorin sucked and nibbled at her until she gave a sharp cry and her hips bucked upwards, hands tugging at his hair and shoulders as he leaned back from her, licking his lips and smiling as she demanded to know what had happened. Aware he had given Bella her first orgasm, Thorin held her close, pressing kisses to her neck and mouth as she trembled in his arms, waiting until she asked for more to show her what other, higher peaks she could reach with two fingers hooked inside her sweet cave. His beard was soaked and his nose was full of her as she reached her peak three more times, and she had relaxed completely, giggling and possessive of his hair as he broke away gasping for breath. His cock ached and he had to tend to himself for a moment, but Bella's sudden interest reminded him of how little she knew of the male body.

Her gentle touch on his shaft was enough to bring him to the brink of release, and as she grew bolder, even playing with his piercing, Thorin knew no other touch could bring him such pleasure as he brushed her unbound hair from her face and let her know exactly how her touch made him feel. It was important, in this first sharing, to always balance the give and take of pleasure, and he remembered how nervous he had been his first time with both male and female lovers before he had gained confidence. Remembering her courage in all other things, Thorin asked what she wanted and couldn't speak when her hand slid up his entire shaft, as though she was measuring his length, and put her other hand over his heart.

“I want to have all other memories replaced with you, Thorin.” He was overwhelmed as she continued, and he said the first thing that came to his mind even as she lay back, the rise and fall of her chest showing her nerves, and she closed her eyes at the first touch of his cock against her ready entrance. He judged his speed based on her breath, slowing it each time she gasped, but she kept whispering his name and smiling as they were joined together. Thorin held himself on his elbows until she buried her face into his neck and tugged him close, and he forgot everything but the feeling of their bodies moving together until he was riding the edge of his release and Bella tightened around him in her own peak, screaming his name to the heavens and he lost control, pulling out of her in time to send his seed spilling across her stomach. He started to apologize, but she was laughing. Her smile was as bright as the sun as she lay before him, hair plastered to her neck, and she had never seemed more beautiful as Thorin joined in her breathless laughter. He cleaned her skin, pressing kisses between her breasts and down her stomach until she seemed more comfortable.

“Allow me.” She returned the favor, teasing him with soft kisses to the inkings on his ribs and even to the tender skin where his legs and torso met, making him jump and her giggle without repentance. He couldn’t yet allow the night to end, and told her so as she mumbled something about an early start. But she had one more surprise for him when she confessed she smelled something different on him, a coincidence he could not discount. The moonlight spilled in through the window, allowing him to extinguish the candle and bask in the afterglow of their coupling, holding Bella close to his heart as she told him he smelled of earth.

After confessing why her scent meant so much to him and kissing away her tears, Thorin watched Bella’s smile as she stared up at the ceiling. “I’m glad we leave tomorrow. From what the others have said, dealing with the Big People has been difficult? They seemed so pleasant the past few nights.”

“The only good thing about your illness was it kept you from the slug that rules this town until he decided to help.” Snarling, Thorin rolled over and toyed with her hair, breathing through his nose. “He kept us here three days longer by pretending he wanted to have another feast, but I finally managed to secure the boats. And do not make me think of him right now.”

“Oh.” Rolling her eyes, Bella turned over and held out her arms, and Thorin accepted her silent invitation, wrapping his hands around her shoulders and tucking her head under his chin. “You sweet dwarf. No one else, I promise.”

“A rare gift.” Shifting to find a more comfortable position, Thorin put his hand on her stomach, running his thumb along her smooth skin as he listened to her breath. “Bella?”

“Hmm?” She kissed his neck before snuggling close and humming a refrain of the song of exile before falling silent.

“Was it…?” He cleared his throat. “Sleep well.”

“I know I will.” She turned over and kissed the center of his chest. “And it was perfect.” Shaking his head, Thorin bent to kiss her once more, and she wrinkled her nose at him before she closed her eyes. “Go to sleep. We have to cross the lake tomorrow.”

“As you wish.” But he lay awake long after Bella slept in his arms, staring out the window at Erebor until he slipped into darkness.

 

_Belladonna Baggins. The herald didn’t move as the hobbit entered the throne room, wearing her blue silk dress and her hair wound with braids that showed her high status, though he couldn’t see every detail as she glided across the long bridge to reach the foot of the dais in moments. She held something in her hands, hidden, and they stood in a dark cave before he could stand from the throne. “My heart.” He thought it was an endearment until she opened her hands and the Arkenstone blinded him in a flash of light. He tried to take it but his hands were smoke. She repeated the entreaty as she faded away, the Arkenstone still bright in her grasp, but he could still hear her voice and knew she would return._

 

In the morning, warm and relaxed, Thorin woke and stretched, finding a sweet armful waiting for him. Bella stirred against his chest, blinking herself awake, looking around until she saw him, her entire face lighting up with the sun. And then she stunned him with two words. That she could make demands of him, that she still wanted him, was a gift greater than he could have imagined, and Thorin pushed the sheets and blankets back so he might see every exquisite detail of her in the dawn’s light. “You gorgeous hobbit.” He was trapped in her eyes, but responded to her invitation with haste, obeying her commands and nearly losing himself as she reached her peak with his name on her lips, falling back and spending himself on the sheets between them. The bed shifted, and he opened his eyes to find Bella staring at him with wonder, her lips parted and eyes wide as she scooted back, her body entrancing him as she moved across the sheets. He leaned back and watched her, delighted that she made no move to cover herself as he thanked her for the time they had shared, but she surprised him again when she named him her lover, and that she was no longer afraid. He believed her. Her face was no longer tight with fear, and she accepted his offer to share a bath even if she didn’t understand why it meant so much to him to share in the waters. The rest of the house was silent, suspiciously so, but he would find the culprit later as he followed Bella to the well appointed bathing chamber. The furnace had been stoked and Thorin knew the entire Company must have heard something through the thin walls and winced at the thought of what they would all say to him.

Thorin helped Bella into the steaming water and the slide of her skin on his thigh had his cock twitching in desire immediately. As she settled on the bench across from him, Thorin smiled and reached for the soap, washing himself and wondering if he was forward enough to take her back in his arms. So when she pushed herself through the water, landing back in his lap and wrapping her arms around his neck, he caught her and held her close, sharing in her simple amazement that they had found the other. He washed her hair as slowly as he could, digging his fingers into her scalp and tending to her long tresses with care, the simple intimacy of touch enough to still his need for her. Once she was clean, he dropped his hands from her shoulders to her waist, pulling her close and resting his chin on the top of her head.

“You kept whispering these words I didn’t understand when you were still feverish.” Thorin dropped his lips to her little ear and nuzzled her with his nose, feeling her shiver and press back into him before her breathless voice answered.

“Gandalf was wrong.”

“Mmm. About many things, but not about you.” She laughed and pulled away so she could meet his gaze, and he put his hand to the back of her head so she could relax into his arms. “You are so trusting of me.”

“How could I not?” She blinked slowly. “You saved my life so many times, Thorin, even when you thought I was a burden. What was I saying?”

“About the wizard being wrong.” Thorin prompted and adjusted his hands on her, brushing his thumb along her collarbone as she cast her eyes up for a moment.

“He said we have no secret tongue. But we do. You might say something in front of another being, and not worry that they would understand you. But we are taught never to even speak it unless there are only hobbits around. Yavanna gave it to us. She said we were to speak with the trees, but I never heard anyone explain that bit. The only ones who speak with trees in these times are the Brandybucks, and the Old Forest doesn’t talk back in any language I’ve ever heard.”

“Another strange clan?” She giggled and reached out her arms for his neck, pulling herself upright and planting a kiss on his jaw.

“Family, Thorin. We’re not clans. There’s so much intermarriage anyway that someone could claim all the families in the Shire and no one would bat an eye.”

“Hobbits are strange creatures.” Thorin smoothed her hair back from her face, leaning in for a kiss and hearing her breath catch in her throat. She seemed less hesitant than last night, and he deepened their contact for a brief moment before breaking away, his chest heaving. Bella cleared her throat, her eyes staying on his.

“ _Tapadh leat_.” The strange words slurred together, but it was musical and soft and so very much like the beautiful female in his arms he had to kiss her again before the import of what she had done hit him, and he leaned back quickly, nearly splashing her before he recovered. “Means thank you. Because you have been very kind, Thorin. Kindness is something I stopped looking for years ago. And what you shared with me last night and this morning, for all that it is something commonplace for dwarves, was one of the kindest acts I have ever experienced.”

He dropped his lips to the corner of her mouth, his fingers tangling into her wet hair and pulling her tight to his chest. Each moment he felt her heart beat against his was a gift, and he was shaking when he finally managed to speak again. “I was honored beyond what I can say now to share such pleasure with you.” But the rest of the speech choked him as Erebor loomed overhead through the tiny window, and he only kissed her again, letting her direct him under she was shivering in the cooling water, and it was easier to carry her out of the enormous tub than let go of her. Once he stood on the thick carpet, she seemed quite happy to have him tend to her while holding her close to his chest, her sweet arms wrapped around his neck and her head pillowed on his shoulder.

“Bella.” He hated to break the spell that lay over them. He set her to the ground and held her hands, kissing each knuckle before meeting her unwavering gaze. “I wish we were not about to leave and face the worm. For I decreed at the very beginning of this quest once we reached the Desolation, no one could share blankets. But I am always here for you. If you have your nightmares, come to me, and I will let you sleep in my arms if you desire.”

“Is that all you seek? My own comfort?” Unable to look at the pretty smile she was bestowing on him for a moment longer, Thorin took her chin in his fingers and ran his thumb along her lips, pressing a chaste kiss to the corner of her mouth before sinking back to his heels.

“Our comfort, my Bella. For when you lay next to me, I too find great comfort and peace.” She reached out for him, her face full of what he could only describe as hope, and they kissed once more, an unspoken promise, and when she clung to his shoulders and said nothing, it took all his strength to step away from her and open the door.

Dwalin stomped around the corner as though he had been waiting for them, and Bella uttered a terrified squeak before fleeing. Thorin watched her go before snarling at his friend. “Was that really necessary?”

“I could ask you the same thing.” But the warrior leaned against the wall, and his smile was soft as he glanced after the hobbit. “You did right by her. And though I could have done without hearing certain things last night, how could I be angry? You let her ask.”

“She fears we go to our deaths.”

“We knew that when we left the Blue Mountains.” But Dwalin’s smile faded. “Brave lass. Come on. We’ve put off the humans, but they grow impatient.” Thorin went back to his rooms, Bella’s scent heavy in the air, and gathered his few belongings as quickly as he could. He glanced around, the simple human furnishings already fading from his memory as just another strange room he had inhabited all too briefly. But the smell of the sheets, the memory of how the rush filled mattress had felt under their combined weight, would be with him for the rest of his days, and he left with a confident stride he had not felt since Rivendell.

Breakfast was quiet, even with Bella at his side, and Thorin silently thanked the Company for refraining from the gentle teasing that was standard fare the night after _sanzarira_. Nothing had been usual about last night, and Bella certainly wasn’t prepared for any comments about thin walls. But he had forgotten one crucial detail. “So, Uncle, did you faint this time?” Kíli was barely managing to keep a straight face as his brother dropped into Khuzdul. “Mother said…”

“Your mother exaggerates.”

“He just got weak kneed.” Dwalin, traitor that he was, joined in even as he poured Bella more tea with a smile that did not fit his face. Thorin debated informing his friend and Captain he resembled a nursemaid and decided holding his tongue was the only sensible course of action left to him. “And I've heard tell of both of you reacting the same way.”   

“Unfair!” After their attention had turned to the other, Thorin risked a glance at Bella and found her smiling, toying with her hair as she ate. Without moving her head, she dropped her hand to squeeze his before resuming her meal, kicking her feet back and forth and humming. Balin sent the younger dwarves back to the kitchen to help with the cleaning, and sent others off on little chores until he, Bella and Thorin were alone. The hobbit blushed as Balin beamed at them before leaving himself, and giving them a moment's privacy that would soon be lacking.

“Still feeling all right?”

“Yes.” She glanced up at him, cheeks pink, and gave him a smile that stopped his heart. “But now I want to go get your mountain back.”

“Our mountain.” She only smiled, thinking he was teasing her, but Thorin meant his words, and wondered what she would say when he approached her for a formal courtship. The bustle of their departure kept them separate, however, and he decided to keep away from her until they could speak with more privacy. He would not give Bard or any of the humans a chance to single Bella out from the rest of the Company for any reason.

The Master was not in attendance, but Thorin could feel the man’s presence in the overly attentive guards, the eager cries from the people, always speaking of gold, gold, gold, of glory and honor but never a word for the King, for the dwarves. Bard was standing at the edge of the crowd, face impassive, but his children were at the pier, smiling and waving with the other children. There was much curiosity directed at Bella, and while she stayed at Balin’s side, hood hiding her face, her diminutive size made her more conspicuous. He had found the cloak himself, while purchasing his own, and that he complimented her was an unexpected pleasure to the main fact she was warm and covered from lovely head to hairy toe. Possession was an unseemly reaction towards one he had shared _sanzarira_ with, but nothing about Bella was normal or ordinary, and the people who shouted for her and tried to touch her didn’t deserve her beauty. Getting onto the boat was a relief, and the two crafts were soon loaded despite the crowds. As the boat left the pier and the last stage of the journey began, Thorin could only think of Bella's calm acceptance that she might die for a people she didn't know, her assertion that the family she had found was worth all she had sacrificed. He would use her courage to bolster his own, and help her earn the crown she didn't know she deserved. For now, he would face forward and see what the Desolation held for the dwarves, and would face it with head held high.

 


	15. Chapter 15

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Durin's Day approaches and Thorin must prepare to send Bella into Erebor, despite his misgivings.

“We used to make a game of it. The thieving little buggers were decimating my tomatoes so I gathered up buckets of conkers and little pebbles. I didn't want to kill them but I wanted my crop, and after a month they soon learned I still have the best aim in the Shire.” Bella scowled, eyes fierce, and Thorin pitied the rabbits that lived around Bag End even as he laughed, distracted from the ashy soil under his pony's hooves. Bella joined in his merriment after a moment, but the sound echoed around them and they fell silent, cowed by the harsh landscape. Her forehead furrowed as she looked around, and she pointed to a charred stump. “Pine and spruce, yes? With smaller groves of birch here and there. Not much undergrowth. The sun would be blocked. You could have walked without much in your way all the way to the Lake.”

“Aye.” He closed his eyes and saw the quiet forest. “The clearings held elk and deer, and flowers in the spring for a few short weeks. Little, wild things.”

“I could bring it back.” The idea sounded ludicrous, the small being at his side casually saying she could restore the entire land, but Thorin believed her. She had a will even a dragon might bow to, against which the mere desolation of near two hundred years could not stand. “I might be gray by the time the trees stand higher than your head, but the children of Erebor would see a green land around their home.” Then she glanced up at the Mountain and her eyes tightened, and she said no more. Thorin watched the new plume of smoke dance in the cool breeze and shivered. The future they dreamed of was only that while Smaug reigned unchallenged. He kneed his pony closer and took Bella's hand as the path led over a ridge and they saw the scorched valley, littered only with blackened boulders. Even the stumps were gone. The sun was already sinking towards the horizon, and Thorin called for Nori.

“See if there is a path that will keep us above the valley, and if there is a defensible campsite.”

“I'll see what I can find.” He heeled his pony into a faster walk, and Thorin held Bella's hand a moment longer before waving Dwalin to the back and Balin to the front. Bella came out of her trance and began to speak of the Rangers of the North, telling more of the Fell Winter she had only spoken of once before. Her stories of fighting packs of starving wolves kept Thorin occupied until he heard Nori's whistle and heard about a small hill with a ring of boulders that would keep ponies and dwarves safe. By the time a camp was set up, and a stew finished, Bella was not the only one yawning, and she sat by herself with her stew, staring up at the comforting veil of stars and the constellations of Thorin's youth.

He meant to leave her alone until he saw her shivering beneath her cloak, and realized she was looking at a strange sky in an unfamiliar land. Returning the favor of distraction, he engaged her in a conversation that seemed to restore some of her natural good spirits, and she snuggled closer after they had finished their small supper. He found himself stroking her cheek, watching her smile grow, until a discreet cough reminded him of their family, all watching with meaningful glares. But he could not stop doting on the hobbit, sending her to bed with soft words and leaving Bella's intoxicating presence with regret. He had heard a dwarf finding their one love acted as though they were drunk, but had never understood what his mother meant until now.

“You are near giddy, brother.” Dwalin grinned as Thorin joined him and Bofur across the camp. “I have not seen so many smiles from you since Kíli was born.”

“Stop teasing him.” Unexpected help arrived from Bofur, who was whittling a stick without design. “You were as bad in Rivendell when I took you on that little stroll.” Dwalin turned red but tugged on Bofur's mustache with a smile Thorin would have called soppy on anyone else, and the two exchanged a brief kiss.

“I won't deny it. Regretting certain pronouncements now, Thorin?”

“There is still chance he might leave the Mountain tonight. We must all stay alert and clothed, else we invite attack from above or below.” His grim words did not sober his friends, and his own heart was not in his warning. He let the two be after Dwalin made a sly comment about much being possible with clothes in place, fleeing to Balin's side as the rest of the Company set up their bed rolls. Balin waited for the soft banter to die down before standing, ready to begin the watch, when he stopped and looked down at Thorin.

“She looks cold over there.” Thorin opened his mouth, angry that Balin would tease, when Bella's scent wafted around him in a gust of wind. His eyes turned to her, and she was huddled on herself and shaking. “Not a one of us would think worse of you for taking care of her when she needs it, for she's done the same for each of us.” Grateful, Thorin grabbed his own meager bedding and went over to Bella, and the smile that grew on her face as he covered them with his blanket and drew her close told him everything he needed to know. He was not woken for the third watch as he had instructed, and Fíli's sly grin when he brought both of them their gruel had Thorin biting his tongue to hold back a scathing retort.

Only Bella's endearing kiss on his hand and the way she wiggled closer kept him from staring his sister son's down, and their smirks told him they knew why he sat in silence. Kíli had the temerity to beg Bella to ride at his side, and that she accepted after a quick glance at Thorin was small comfort for her absence. Without a distraction, the sheer change from the wild forests and fields to the ashy landscape tore at his heart, and it was a relief to stumble onto an old stretch of road that eased their passage past the river and towards the western flank. This close to Erebor, the Mountain held his attention and seemed unchanged from his youth. Small lichens and mosses dotted some of the boulders, and the air was cleaner, above the swirling ash and dirt that had settled in the valley below.

Utter silence reigned until they rounded the slope and the sounds of the river were muted. Bombur offered around small packets of _cram_ , followed by water, and though the food had little taste, full bellies made for better travel, and after allowing the ponies a brief rest, the Company continued in their slow climb towards the path they hoped to find. Quiet chatter resumed and filled the desolate space, and before the sun had reached its zenith, they found a good campsite that nestled against an overhang, and would give them a good base to begin the search. Bombur elected to stay behind with Bifur, who had been quieter than normal the past few days, but the rest were eager to begin the search so Thorin led them out, with Balin at his side to help him remember the way. They carried small packs, enough for a night spent on the exposed slope, but Thorin tried not to raise his hopes as he studied the map again.

“We must be close. Why didn't they include a distance from the road? It might take days to find the way.”

“I think we're closer than you think. Send everyone out for an hour, and we'll meet back here to see if there are any promising leads.” Balin's plan was put into action, and if Thorin was quick to go to Bella's side, no one dared mention his haste. She was struggling in the cold, but shouldered her pack without complaint and started climbing up and towards the north face, while the other half of the Company ventured to the south. Fíli led them, his youth giving him the speed to leap over boulders the others had to inch around, but he was careful not to get out of earshot so Thorin kept his mouth closed. He could smell dragon smoke, and he hoped even dwarven engineering couldn't be airtight in rock. The scent must mean they were getting closer.

The air was chilled and thin, but the dwarves had missed the feeling of being in the mountains and spread out on the west face of Erebor. Dwalin and Bofur stayed by Bella, who was struggling, and Thorin stayed in the middle of the group as he scanned the ground above and below, though he didn't believe they had climbed past the door. Fíli disappeared, and his uncle surged forward, certain a fissure filled with scree had swallowed his heir, when he heard shouting.

“Uncle! I think I found it!” Relief flooded Thorin even as he scrambled up the slope and found a flat ledge, invisible from below and protected with a low wall. The entire area felt created, overlaid with superficial wildness, and as the others arrived panting, they seemed to agree, cheering and scanning the walls, as though they might spot the door without the other clues the map said they needed. Bella stared, the confusion on her face reminding Thorin she could not see the signs the rest of them could in the rock. Instead, she turned to survey the land beyond Erebor that had been hidden. Her stillness conveyed her terror better than any scream, and Thorin hurried to her side before something happened. When he saw what she did, the hills stretching into the distance all stripped of life, he felt his jubilation fade.

“What happened? It's quiet, Thorin.” Drawing her back from the ledge, Thorin took off his coat and wrapped it around her shoulders as he first thanked Fíli for his sharp eyes. Bella turned anguished eyes to him, and Thorin rubbed his hand on her upper arm to try and soothe her as he continued.

“He had long years to destroy the forests, my Bella. Once he is gone, life will return. Fíli, go find the others, and tell Bombur we will stay here.” Obedient, Fíli only gave Bella a worried glance before leaving, but she seemed over her initial shock, color already returning to her cheeks. Thorin made her eat some _cram_ and drink before he would let her stand, and by then a camp had already been created, a fire pit dug and ready for the tinder and other light fuel they had brought.

“You described the area, but I didn't think it was so destroyed, and bigger than the Shire on top of that.” Thorin knew she was picturing her home suffering the same fate as she covered her mouth, eyes staring. “What did he do inside?”

“Come here, my Bella.” He led her over to a boulder and made her sit, until color returned to her cheeks and her breathing deepened. “Don't be afraid.”

“I won't be.” By the time the rest of the Company had arrived and the ropes were turned into a rough ladder to make the climb faster, she had recovered and joined in the work of bringing some of their supplies to the doorstep. Durin's Day was fast approaching, and they needed to find the door before the fateful sunset. At least with Bella at his side, the next few days would pass quickly, and they did.

He grew to know his beloved as she opened the story of her life to him, talking for hours about her childhood, but there were a span of years she did not mention and no one pressed her for details. He could read her pain in little silences after she spoke her father's name, or told tales of the Baggins pipe-weed fields in the Southfarthing.

The more she told of her family, the dwarves realized she had done far more than give up her home. The lands she spoke of, inns, mills, bakeries and homes, added up to a more than respectable income. She was the product of a union between two old, wealthy and respected families. Had she been a dwarf, she would have had suitors by the score. Her utter rejection because of a terrible night was even worse because her status, her childhood had built up an expectation of worth in her that had been stripped away. She had handed over all her material wealth to a cousin to escape the loneliness. These were not new thoughts, but now Thorin had a clearer picture of the hardships his beloved had faced, and everything she had sacrificed to aid him. He held Bella that night, knowing the bad dreams she woke from with a gasp were because of the memories she was dredging up to keep the rest of them distracted from the long wait. She was subdued in the morning, sitting off by herself and staring out at the Desolation, but to repay her kindness Thorin told her stories from Erebor's past, of childhood scrapes he and Frerin had tumbled in and out of with no regard for the future. “We knew what our lives held. Never questioned it. I would be King, and he my Captain, and we would watch our kingdom grow strong.” Bella’s understanding helped Thorin continue. “When I watched his pyre burn, I took some of his ashes. They lie in the Blue Mountains. I told Dís to bring him home if she could.”

“She will get the chance to lay him to rest here.” Bella promised, and Thorin believed her. They did not speak for a long time, but held the other close as they thought of the past. Thorin let his fingers rest on the bead his mother had pressed into his hands so long ago, tracing over the sigils again and again. Finally, night fell. Tomorrow, the fate of his kingdom would be decided.

 

“Thorin, wake up.” Balin. No tension, no urgency, so Thorin kept his eyes closed that the image of Bella wearing nothing but diamonds could be his for a moment longer. With a sigh, he let go of the pleasant dream and opened his eyes. The sun was just peeking over the horizon and Balin sat nearby, staring out over the Desolation. It was Durin’s Day.

“What is it, old friend?”

“Look.” Thorin turned to follow a pointed finger and watched the golden sun illuminate the land below. Even denuded of trees and scorched down to the bare stone, Erebor was beautiful. Thorin knew he would never leave again. He thought he could feel the Arkenstone calling him from among the hoard somewhere, a song that rose through the bones of his home into his soul.

“A good omen.”

“Indeed.” Balin sighed, staring down at his clasped hands. “Will you be ready this evening?”

“For what? We will find the door.” Balin raised his eyes to meet Thorin’s, and switched to Khuzdul.

“To send our thief inside. Alone.”

“I can not, will not, put my own needs above our people. Neither will she.” Balin was about to reply when they heard the others stirring, and Dwalin joined Thorin at the shelf’s edge.

“Morning, brother, Thorin. A good day.”

“Yes.” Thorin went and sat by himself until he could control his face. It had been easy to ignore what would happen once the door opened, the obstacles between leaving the Blue Mountains and Erebor more than enough to occupy his mind. And now, his Queen was going to be facing a dragon. Her ring only provided her with the scantest of protection. He twitched in surprise when Bella appeared at his side, _cram_ in one hand and a waterskin in the other, and without ceremony pushed the hard biscuit into his hands.

“Your knife is better than mine.” Startled from his quiet, Thorin laughed and managed to break the hardtack into bite size pieces, and the concentration the travel rations required kept him occupied for a long time. Bella patted the rock face behind her, much as she would a pony, and caught Thorin's curious glance with a rueful smile.

“The rocks kept me warm last night. I like your Mountain, Thorin. She's a strong home.”

“One you think you will come to love?”

“I think so.” Pleased, Thorin took her hand and tried not to look at the disc of gold climbing in the eastern sky. “With time.”

“That is all we can ask.” She blushed at his words, and turned back to her breakfast still smiling. He was to remember the look on her face for the rest of his years, her hair wind blown and her eyes gentle as she looked at him, a moment frozen in time.

Never had the sun moved so slowly in the sky, taunting the dwarves for hours as they waited for the last light they had been promised. Bella alone kept Thorin from howling and throwing himself at the rock face, telling him stories that often drew laughs from the others, or by holding his hand and leaning her head on his shoulder, her stillness a better distraction than any amount of talk. If the door opened, the contract they had both signed said she would go inside Erebor without delay. “Thorin?” Bella's voice danced along his skin in harmony with the song he could still only feel as a ghost, and from the corner of his eye, her skin glowed white. “Are you hungry again?”

“I am, my Bella.” She smiled with the corner of her mouth, the same reaction every time he named her as his own. Her acceptance to his proposal seemed a formality, but now was not the time to ask while they ate dinner and she talked with Balin about dwarven doors and how they might be hidden. From the dimensions the map gave, there were only three or four faces that might hold the great hinges of stone and as the sun began to fall towards the smudge of the Misty Mountains to the west, the entire Company waited in painful stillness. Thorin held the key in his hand, holding Bella’s hand in the other, his eyes moving over the blank face of Erebor. They had failed in locating it, and if they missed whatever sign the last light of Durin’s Day was to bring them, he knew not what they might do next. Bella squeezed his fingers, her lips pressed together as she looked around.

A thrush alighted on a boulder, a snail held in its beak as it cocked its head and stared at the gathered beings before slamming the shell against the harder granite. Bella was watching, distracted, while Thorin kept up his vigilance. The sun slid below the horizon, and in its final moments of visibility, Bella cried out, leaping forward past the startled bird to point at a keyhole that shone golden. Thorin was next to her an instant later, sliding the key in and turning it, praying he had been fast enough. He could hear stone grinding against stone as he pulled Bella away from the moving door, the outlines now visible as the opening appeared. He fell to his knees, struck dumb, as Bella turned inside his arms and threw herself into his chest, laughing. She kissed him, latching onto his braids to pull him closer, and Thorin closed his eyes as Bella’s warm mouth opened to his tongue.

The cheers of the Company brought him back to reality, and Bella broke the kiss, her cheeks pink but her eyes dancing as Thorin held her close. “You did it, my Bella.”

“We did it.” She whispered against his neck, some of her jubilation fading as she stared into the dark entrance. The smell of smoke and stale air sobered them all, and everyone fell silent as Bella wrapped her arms around Thorin's chest. Her heart hammered in her throat, fast enough for him to feel, and he saw Balin’s worried gaze. Thorin had sworn to serve his people. But he held his heart in his hands, and she was terrified. Bella took a shuddering breath and Thorin tried to think of something to say before she leaned forward and kissed his nose. Taken by surprise, he barked a laugh that she could be impudent even in her fear, and let his arms drop when Bella pushed back from his chest. He offered to go with her, despite the obvious risk, but she shook her head and withdrew her ring from her pocket, turning it over in her hands as she refused him.

“My ring only works for one. I will return.” She squared her shoulders, looking around at her family, drew her tiny sword, and disappeared. Thorin whispered her name, but her scent was gone. He met Dwalin’s eyes.

“You heard her. She will return. Fíli, Kíli, you’re fastest on the ropes. Get down to Bombur and start bringing up our supplies. He needs to join us so we can make plans together.”

Nori volunteered to aid them, and Thorin settled down by the door to wait. Balin stood nearby, peering into the open doorway, and took a step inside. “Thorin, look.” He joined his friend and saw carvings in the wall, hurried scratches using runes. It was in the common tongue, and Thorin brought a branch from the fire to make the reading easier. The marks were shallow and irregular. “ _May any dwarf reading this know that we did not abandon our home. We will return one day, to reclaim our kingdom. Thrór, King of Erebor_.” Balin finished reading and sighed.

“He took the time to remember his kingdom.” Thorin sighed, putting his hand over the words of his grandfather. “If only he could see us now.”

“He will know when you sit on his throne, and rest easy.” Balin glanced down the tunnel and pulled Thorin back onto the ledge. “We should be careful how loud we speak. We know nothing of Smaug’s capabilities.”

“My brave hobbit.” Thorin closed his eyes. “Do you think she has a chance?”

“A better chance than any of us.” Dwalin joined them, Bofur at his side. The miner nodded, eyes tight as he looked at the dark tunnel.

“She’s quiet, and smart. If she could avoid the elves for weeks, a big lumbering beast doesn’t have a chance to catch her.” Thorin had to sit, and knew the rest of the Company were as worried as he as they all tried to distract themselves, but all eyes were on the tunnel. Thorin thought he might throw up and began pacing to settle his nerves and stomach.

An hour passed before Nori, Fíli and Kíli arrived with the first of their supplies. Bombur was behind them, and Thorin could see the bulk of their quartermaster on the slope below. “How much did he refuse to leave behind on this trip? It looks like he’s carrying half the camp with him.”

“Just about.” Thorin was about to send Bombur some help when he heard something clank inside the tunnel, and turned in time to see Bella reappear, holding an axe taller than she was, her face white. He held out his arms, but she pushed the beautiful weapon at him, sinking to her knees. Fíli knelt at Bella's side, offering her water and his jacket when she began to shake. Thorin looked down at the war axe in his hand and felt his grip on the handle loosen, before he remembered himself and clutched the familiar shaft close to him.

Sválin had been a fierce warrior in her youth, a noted captain who asked for the caravan assignments most dangerous. The axe had been one of the first courting gifts from Thrór, and every other axe for his family had been modeled after it. The colors and sigil of her house were laid into the handle, and the blade was still sharp. Bella finally described what she had seen, voice breaking as she told of destruction on a vast scale, and tears leaked down her cheeks when she spoke.

Thorin had to raise spirits, for all that he wished to join in her sorrow, and he thanked her for the axe, reminding all of the line of warriors they were descended from. But even as he thanked Bella for the gift, pleased she had thought of the defense of the Company before seeking treasure, he heard a rumbling from below. A terrible voice bellowed from the depths of the tunnel.

“Thief! Thief!” Bella screamed as the ledge shook, covering her ears as she fell to her knees. Ignoring everyone else, Thorin swept to her side and had her in his left arm, carrying her towards the door to the mountain.

“Everyone, inside, now!” He used his battlefield voice, cutting underneath the rumbling and the sound of the dragon screaming his accusations. Fíli and Kíli responded first, both grabbing at the nearest dwarf to them and rushing into the tunnel. Ori and Bofur stood blinking as pebbles fell from the ceiling, but recovered to go back out outside and guide their friends and family to the dubious safety of the tunnel. Thorin had his hands full with Bella, trying to calm her, and had no attention for anything else until he heard Bofur scream Bombur’s name. That stilled Bella and she looked up at Thorin, stricken.

“I’ve killed him!”

“Dwalin, Dori, go! The rest of you stay put, we will not give Smaug more targets!” Thorin hauled Bella back to his chest, knowing she could not help Bombur reach them in time, and she struck at him, but he caught her wrist before her hand could reach his face. He dropped his voice and held her eyes with his, trying to break through her anger. “You can’t help him now, my love. Stay here. Stay with me, please.” He loosened his grip, knowing he was adding to her fear with restraint, and held his breath until she nodded and sank to the floor, wrapping her arms around herself even as Bombur stumbled inside, followed by Dori and Dwalin. Bofur was waiting, jamming a rock into the doorway before pulling the heavy stone almost closed, and waving them all back, his face pale and hair in disarray. His hat was gone, and Thorin did not recognize his friend.

“Move back from the door!” Everyone scrambled for the stairs, stumbling in the darkness, Thorin holding Bella’s hand to keep her from falling.

“Thief! I can smell you, thief!” Intense heat and light framed the crack of the door and Bella burrowed into Thorin’s arms, crying as the great wing beats filled the air, and Thorin closed his eyes as his stomach churned. He remembered these sounds. Everyone was going to die. He pulled Bella closer to his heart, his hands going to her tear streaked face and trying to make her look at him. Their last moments should be together.

“Look at me, Bella. Look at me.”

“Thorin. Thorin, I’m scared.” She cringed as another burst of flames lit the side of the mountain, but in a moment of silence, Thorin heard the screams and cries of ponies. He held his breath, refusing to hope, but Smaug’s retreat was obvious.

“He’s left. He’s gone, Bella. He thinks we’re with the ponies.”

“Oh no!”

“Bella! It’s better than us dying!” Bella sniffled as she glared at him, but her hysteria had faded and after a shuddering breath she nodded, chin trembling.

“They did not deserve death.”

“No. They did not.” Thorin smoothed the damp hair from her face and held her tight, soothing the shudders from her until she sighed and rested her forehead against his, and cursed herself for attracting Smaug’s attention. He argued with her, and realized his family had withdrawn farther down the stairs, giving them as much privacy as was possible. He lay down on one of the broad steps, allowing Bella to pillow her head on his arm. He knew they would both have nightmares of dragon fire and thanked Mahal that he had someone at his side he could lean on as he dealt with his fears. Smaug was alive, and no less potent in his rage. Meanwhile, Bella needed to hear that he still believed in her, and he spent long minutes telling her why she shouldn’t blame herself for anything. By the end, he could feel her smile move her cheeks and planted a final kiss on her forehead. “Now we will plan. And you will help. Sleep, my Bella. We will see what the morning brings us.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I'm starting to see the end of this part of Regenerating and dovetailing back into Growing, which is both a huge relief and a little sad for me. This story will end right around when Healing did. I need my unwritten year for flashbacks and plot points in Growing. If you're curious about some of what happens between the two, Building is where I write my shorts and prompts. Since ending this last time was disappointing to many of you, I want to be more upfront with you darling people about what's to come. Thank you again for reading, I appreciate it more than I can say.


	16. Chapter 16

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> In the aftermath of Smaug's attack, Thorin faces a difficult decision and struggles with expressing his feelings to his beloved.

Morning light showed the destruction of the camp below and the melted slag that had once been the little half wall that had defined the shelf. The ropes were gone, but Nori and Fíli risked the climb down to see if any of their supplies had survived, while Bombur tallied their remaining food and came up with a grim total. No one wanted to ask Bella to go back inside, and some of the plans they were proposing had Thorin rolling his eyes in dismay. Kíli’s suggestion of digging down from the peak had even Bella shaking her head, and she stood, crossing her arms and glaring at them all.

“I will go back inside tomorrow. We’re chasing our tails like dogs, not using our brains. I have the best chance of finding a way to exploit his weakness.” Everyone let out their breath, several signing their relief she had offered to make another journey without them having to ask her. Thorin would not speak behind her back, but he held out his hand and Bella accepted his silent invitation to sit beside him.

“You are brave, my burglar.” She shook her head, mute now that her annoyance had faded, and Thorin combed his fingers through her hair before snatching his hand back from such a display, his cheeks heating that he would shame her so. She had said little since the blood chilling terror of the previous evening, and Thorin wasn’t sure how coherent her memories were. She had said nothing of his presumptive actions, restraining her and even naming her his love.

Thorin knew his fear had prompted the outburst, but did not regret the words. She was his treasure, his _ghivashel_. He could call her such endearments no matter who listened. It was his right as her _sanzarirâl_ , to show the lasting affection he held for her no matter what other relationships either might pursue. His heart ached as Bella leaned into the caress, her fingers toying with her golden ring as she closed her eyes. “I am not brave. I am frightened. But I will do as I promised.”

“I know you will, my brave hobbit.” He was about to say more when he heard rocks slipping down the slope, and turned in time to see his nephew pulling himself over the now jagged edge of the precipice, Nori on his heels. Dropping a single pack on the ground, Fíli bent over and waved off his brother, but his heir’s face was pale beneath the layer of grime and Thorin stood, concerned.

“What is it, Fíli?”

“He destroyed everything but this. All just ash. Melted rock. I never thought…” Unable to speak, Fíli accepted Kíli’s aid in sitting, and Ori brought him a water skin. “At least I didn’t see any of the ponies.”

“Fíli, you did well. Nori, what did you see?” Thorin kept his voice even, allowing his nephew to recover at his own pace. He knew too well the fear the dragon could inspire. Nori took a deep breath and gave his report, eyes scanning the Desolation.

“I could see signs of his hunt, headed north. He caught them one by one, settled on the ground to eat, and took to the air again. Brainless hunting.”

“No wonder he burned it all down, if that’s how he likes to hunt.” Bombur took the pack, face lighting up when he saw the _cram_ enclosed there. “And this will grant us another three or four days.”

“Another eight. We go to half rations. Except for our burglar. She needs to keep up her strength to continue her work and recover from her illness.” Everyone nodded, many reluctant but seeing the sense of his plan. Except for one.

“What under the trees do you think you’re playing at, Thorin? I will not stuff my face while the rest of you starve!” Bella planted her fists into her hips, quivering as she shook a finger under his nose. “We’ve spoken about this before. Don’t be ridiculous!”

“I am not being ridiculous.” Thorin knew he sounded like a child sulking after a scolding, but cleared his throat and assumed as regal a tone as he could manage. “You are not a dwarf. We can adjust quickly to less food, especially since we’ve been on travel rations for a time. You’ve been ill, and you are the one facing the most danger. If you are to go inside tomorrow, you will need all your wits about you.” Her anger faded, but Bella was stubborn. Thorin knelt at her side, asking her to do as he asked for the good of them all, keeping his voice low. She took a deep breath, closed her eyes and nodded.

“If you insist. But I am not happy about this, Thorin. I do not like taking when you will not.”

“You’re doing it to keep us safe. If we’re going to get some rest, we’re going to need your help remaking the camp.” Allowing the work to distract them all, the Company shook ash from their clothes, split up the meager bedding that had been saved from the flame, and Bombur made a thin broth from the very last of their fresh food to stretch out the _cram_ and put warmth in their bellies. The door was left open, the dark tunnel a constant reminder that they were not safe.

Eyes closed, Balin stood at the far side of the ledge. When he rejoined them the old dwarf was smiling though his eyes were tight with worry. “I could hear some night birds hunting. I think he’s back in his hole for now. But keep an ear to the wind.”

“Thank you, Balin.” Thorin touched Bella’s shoulder, offering her some of his broth and she accepted, eyelids lowered and her cheeks flushing. Wondering what hobbit custom he had stumbled across and determined to do it again, Thorin refused to think about tomorrow. Tonight, he could enjoy the bantering of his family and friends, the closeness of his beloved, and he kept his hand on Bella’s to remind himself that she was here with him. Her scent was hard to pinpoint amid the residue of Smaug’s attack, but her very presence was enough to bring him peace. Bella had done so much for them already. If there was a way to defeat Smaug, she would find it.

A flutter of wings brought everyone’s head around, but it was a large raven with glossy black wings and a fine crest, looking at all of them with one unblinking eye then another. Bella held out a crumb and tossed it forward, and the bird snatched the offering out of mid air with a croak. Bella looked delighted and Thorin was inundated by the memories the sound brought back. He hoped the ravens had maintained their ability to speak with the dwarves, and bowed his head to their visitor. She bowed her head in return and flew away, to Bella’s disappointment. Thorin told her something of them, and Balin beamed over at the hobbit’s wonderment. “If the ravens have managed to keep their kingdom thriving in the Desolation, we will be most fortunate. You will like them, Bella. They are wise birds and know much of the land. I wager you would have much to teach and learn from them.”

“I hope so.” Bella clasped her hands over her knees, resting her chin on them. “I would enjoy spending some time with ravens.”

“And they would enjoy their time with you.” The discussion turned to some of Balin’s memories of Erebor, the day to day life that had been lost in dragon fire. Thorin wanted to change the topic, but Bella did not seemed bothered as she listened to the tales with the intensity of a scholar, her fingers twitching as though they held a quill. After some time, she told more of what she had seen, the sorrow in her eyes evident as she spoke of walls torn down and piles of rubble amid the treasures of the Longbeards.

Kíli frowned and glanced across the fire at her. “But…you’re not going to stay with us, are you? To see it rebuilt?” She opened and closed her mouth but said nothing while Thorin blinked in surprise. He had thought Bella had told her family of her sacrifice, but did not blame her for keeping her sorrow to herself. She turned beseeching eyes to him and Thorin cleared his throat, drawing attention from his beloved. And as he spoke, he decided he would no longer hold his intentions inside. She deserved his honesty tonight of all nights.

“Bella gave her home to her cousins to follow us. She is as homeless as we and I have already promised her she will have a place with us as long as she desires one.” Kíli’s eyes grew large and his jaw firmed before rising to his feet and rounding the fire to kneel at Bella’s side and whisper something in her ear that made her laugh, her eyes kind as she kissed his cheek.

“If you insist.” Kíli grinned and patted her shoulder, before snatching his hand away under Thorin’s glare. Fíli smiled at them and pulled his pipe from his mouth.

“What did he offer you that I’ll have to help with?” Kíli sniffed and shot his brother a glance.

“I said we will make her a hobbit hole inside the Mountain so that she is comfortable.” The other dwarves agreed, Balin recalling a few terraces where she could create a garden and Thorin shot his old friend a knowing glance. All the terraces were attached to the Royal Wing. As King, Thorin was called upon to recognize the promises being made, and though Glóin and Dwalin were teasing, Bella turned to Thorin with a serious air and everyone fell silent.

“Of course we will give you a garden.” He kept his voice low, glancing into her lovely eyes. “Perhaps one where flowers and vegetables will grow together. What will you want to grow first?”

“I was thinking lavender, my King.” Thorin laughed despite himself.

“I recall that lavender often does well in a special bed, if the men of Dale knew what they were doing. I will build you one if you wish.” She blushed and Thorin said nothing more as the rest of the Company offered their services in making her a home. He already knew where he wanted her to live. The king’s chambers had a large terrace that could be expanded with little work. He would wrap the Mountain in gardens if Bella asked it of him. She would see what a dwarf kingdom was capable of providing her when they had power and influence. Something cold touched his heart and Thorin shifted, thinking of the treasures below his feet, what he could do with the power gold bestowed, but Bella’s stifled yawn and a glance at the stars told him the hour was late and everyone got ready for bed. Glóin banked the coals, checking their dwindling pile of fuel with a frown, and Balin took the first watch.

Against the face where her bedroll had the most cover, Bella was combing her hands through her tangled hair, trying to restore order to unruly curls and losing the battle. It was difficult to watch, the poor state of her tresses mocking their position and such blatant handling of unbraided hair as intimate as their night together had been. Thanking Mahal, Thorin fished the steel comb he had purchased in Lake Town from his pack and called Bella’s name. It was time.

“Let me help you with your hair.” She smiled and accepted his invitation to come sit on his bedding while his mouth babbled apologizes for the plain comb he was using to offer betrothal braids. Bella didn’t seem to mind, moving closer so he could wrap his legs around her. Kíli was giggling, and let loose with a guffaw, but Fíli smacked his brother and dragged him away, both giving Thorin looks that promised the teasing had only been postponed. The rest of the Company turned away, moving as far as they could to give the couple as much privacy as possible, but Thorin tried not to look into their faces. He knew his proposal seemed rushed, but there was no doubt in his mind that he and Bella had been set together by the Valar, the scent they had of the other only one of the signs they had been given.

He reached into his hair and untangled his mother’s remembrance braid and her beads, the stylized anvil of her family’s sigil pressing against his skin. They would hold the two braids together, Freydís’ support to her daughter-to-be and a constant reminder to her son that he was honored to have a wife. The other bead, with the ravens of Erebor over Thorin’s own sigil, had been cast when he had reached his majority and held against the hope of this moment. He held them out so Bella could see them and cleared his throat.

“I would like to use these in your braids.” She glanced back at him and nodded, her eyes glowing in the firelight. Thorin stopped breathing until spots swam before his eyes. Her weight in his arms was sweet, and his hands trembled as he combed out Bella’s curls, letting the smooth fall of her hair lay in his hands. Lavender rolled from her skin and intoxicated him, and he wished they were alone, for she did not know their ways and would not see another night with him as going against custom. He shoved the thought away even as Balin coughed and Thorin jerked back to the present. Bella snuggled against his chest, her small sigh expressing her contentment and trust better than any words could.

His counselor was glaring over at them, eyebrow arched, and Thorin bent his head to his task to hide his burning cheeks, wondering how obvious his desire had been. But his sweet Bella noticed nothing, turning her head when he asked so he could weave the thick braids around either side of her head and join them with the two matching beads, and he completed the betrothal braid down the center of her back with head swimming. He remembered his mother teaching him and Frerin the patterns, making them practice on the other, and had to swallow the lump in his throat as Bella tilted her head back to smile up at him.

“Thank you, Thorin. This will help.” She reached back to touch the braid and Thorin stopped her, knowing if he had to watch her play with her hair he might not be able to resist stealing a kiss or two, consequences be damned. But it might frighten her, and she had enough to face without her family fighting. So he sent her off to her own bedroll, permitting himself the ghost of a kiss to her forehead, and watched her relax, her lips parted and forehead furrowed, the firelight bringing out the hidden gold in her hair. Dwalin finally released the Princes and they both sat on either side of him, beaming but silent until their uncle gave them an impatient glance. “Aye?” He kept his voice low, and switched to Khuzdul to keep from alerting Bella.

“What can we say?” Fíli leaned his chin on his knees and watched Bella. “I told her of family braids, but I did not think to tell her of this. She will be a fine Queen.”

“And Aunt.” Kíli mimicked his brother, sighing with over dramatic emphasis. “What a story this will make! A brave hobbit saves a King and steals his heart. Even the humans might appreciate such a tale.”

“Be silent.” Thorin growled. “I will not let her go into the Mountain without knowing she has my love. We are not home yet, and we are far from safe.” But his nephews refused to acknowledge that they might die, and instead cooed over her sweet acceptance of their uncle’s clumsy proposal.

“I mean, honestly, Uncle, ‘I can fix your hair?’ We’ll have to rewrite that part. Ori, make a note. Fix Uncle’s prose.” Ori turned his head at Kíli’s words and Thorin heard a suppressed laugh, rolling his eyes as Fíli continued.

“You’re fortunate she knows nothing of our history, Uncle. Why, think of what Durin IV said to his wife, comparing her to the seven stars and the veins of mithril. Once she learns of that she’ll find you wanting.” Gritting his teeth, Thorin glared at them both until Dwalin finally took pity on his cousin and arrived, hauling both young dwarves away from their King, though he did give Thorin a scathing look that needed no words. Thorin refused to explain himself further. Bella had accepted him, and though they might not ever wed or even share the pleasures of the flesh again she was his wife in his heart. He took the next watch, making sure the fire was low so if the dragon took to the skies their camp could not be seen. Pacing the edge of the doorstep kept him occupied, and if his steps took him by Bella’s slumbering form more than was necessary, his friends at least pretended to sleep and gave him privacy.

 

He slept apart from his betrothed, dreaming of her face wreathed in a cold light. It stirred old memories, but when he woke he could not remember why, and there was no time to dwell on anything but her impending departure. Bella would not be facing a sleeping opponent this time. Smaug would be waiting, burning for vengeance against the thief he had not found. Thorin watched her, saw the signs of fear she sought to control as she ate her breakfast and sat with Bofur and Dori. They tried to give her advice, but Bella wasn’t listening, gaze turned inward. She helped clean the remnants of breakfast, afterwards slipping inside the door to change. Bifur, who had been subdued since the Company had arrived at Erebor, walked over to Thorin and held out his hand. Curious, Thorin opened his palm and received a small white pebble, but it wasn’t granite or any other stone that made up the mountain. His curiosity must have showed on his face because Bifur chuckled.

“From her garden.” Thorin closed his hand over the little piece of Bag End, heart thudding in his chest.

“Thank you.”

“I hope we will see it at your wedding.” Thorin could only nod, and tucked the token into his boot, where he was sure it would be safe. He wondered why the injured warrior would have taken the small pebble, but recalled it had been soft under his fingers and would take delicate carving, if handled with care. Bifur was dedicated to his craft and probably still had some similar prices tucked away in his clothes. Thorin would carve his name alongside Bella’s in the stone and put it in the temple so Mahal could watch over them both.

Bella reappeared, tugging her threadbare shirt and jacket into place, Sting’s scabbard tangling with the faded red fabric. Thorin helped snug the belt the right way, making sure she could draw her weapon. The dagger had no chance against Smaug, but having a weapon might make her feel brave. He leaned back from her and smiled to see his braids framing her beautiful face. “How do you feel?”

“Nervous.” She looked around at the hovering Company, meeting their eyes one at a time but holding herself apart. “I am not sure what I am going to do when I am down there. But whatever I do, it will be for Erebor.”

“Well said, lass.” Balin made as though to hug her, hesitating until she stepped into his arms. He took Bella’s hand after their long embrace, whispering something in her ear that made her smile before she went to Dori, hovering nearby. He held her hands without a word and the furious blinking of his eyes told Thorin all he needed to know of the alchemist’s love for his sister.

Bombur thanked her for all her help and complimented her skill, promising her a victory meal made from his own hands. Bifur bowed over Bella’s hands, wordless until she hugged him and Bombur translated his cousin’s thanks for the time they had spent together, his cheeks damp.

Fíli and Kíli bowed to Bella with more dignity than anyone would have guessed, and their uncle was proud of them as they gave their fellow _shomakhîth_ advice to avoid Smaug’s other senses. Ori said nothing, but clung to Bella’s hand until she had to tug herself away with downcast eyes, and found herself wrapped in Nori’s arms, the poacher kissing both her cheeks with a finality Thorin could tell cost his cousin a great deal. Bella did not notice, for Glóin was hugging her tight to his chest, kissing her forehead and whispering a blessing as his brother stood close by, jealous for his own blessing said over the bent head of his sister.

Dwalin and Bofur took Bella aside, and the smile grew on her face as they spoke to her. Thorin could not face the farewells any longer. He went to the fire and spent some time checking the dwindling supply of fresh water. A soft hand on top of his brought his head up to meet Bella’s worried eyes.

Without speaking, she knelt, her hand tightening on his, and Thorin shuddered when he felt the trembling in her limbs. They were asking too much of her. He was about to beg her to stay when she smiled. “ _Tapadh leat, mo stór_.” Thorin pressed his forehead to hers in silence, and took a deep breath.

“I will be waiting for you, my Bella.”

“I know.” She patted his shoulder, teeth worrying her lip and her face screwed into a tight smile. “If I don’t leave now I’ll never dare step foot inside the tunnel.” Thorin helped her to her feet and felt his body tighten with dread as she turned to face the dark entrance, her shoulders trembling. She drew her sword. “Goodbye.”

“Wait.” Thorin could not tear his eyes from her as he stepped forward. “I will go with you until we can not see the door. That will make your climb back easier.” Everyone held their breath, but Bella smiled.

“Thank you.” He waited for protest from the others, but no one said a word as he stepped inside Erebor with his hand on Bella’s back, and his grandmother’s axe in the other. A few steps down had even his eyes straining to see the carved stone, and Bella clung to his hand as her feet sought out the edge of each stair. They did not speak, for fear of Smaug, but as the stairs went ever down and the light of the door faded behind them, they were together and that was all Thorin could ask for now. When he glanced over his shoulder and could only see a sliver of sun from the doorway, he stopped and put his hand to Bella’s soft cheek, breathing in her scent and gathering her to his chest. He bent his mouth over her ear to make her one last promise.

“I will remain here for you.” Keeping his tone light smoothed some of the worry from her eyes, and Thorin bent over her, putting what he could not say into a searing kiss. Bella raised a hand to his face, her eyes locked on his, before sinking to her heels and taking one shaking step away. Her devotion to duty was incredible. Thorin watched her go until the darkness swallowed her and then allowed himself to sink to the smooth stone. What would she do when confronted by a dragon who wanted her dead? How long could he force himself to wait before going to face the same terror?

He forced himself into stillness and put his axe close to his right hand, breathing in the fetid air. There was dragon, smoke and sulfur, but there was no rancid edge to the scent. He closed his eyes. Bella had not spoken of bodies, but no one would have died defending the hoard. He knew what would be waiting for him near the Front Gate, along the public corridors leading to the mines. Long years would have turned his people into bones, if Smaug had not eaten them. Jerking himself away from the horrors his brain was conjuring, Thorin tried to focus on his duties. No matter what he found, the halls of the dead would be taking in bodies by the score, but the memories of Azanulbizar would not allow the King to do anything less. Each of Smaug’s victims would have their tomb, if it took the rest of his life to see it done.

He never knew how long he sat in the darkness, alone with his thoughts and fear, but a great rumbling shook Erebor and sent Thorin falling down several steps, axe clattering away until he managed to snag the end of the handle. “Thief!” Smaug’s roar pressed Thorin back to the ground as he struggled to find his footing. Bella. Rage filled his heart and he started down the stairs as fast as he could go, weapon at the ready. There was flame far below and he saw a faint shadow against the wall of the tunnel before darkness returned with abrupt speed.

With one hand on the wall, Thorin continued his journey towards Bella, unable to think until he heard her labored breathing. She was no longer wearing her ring and he saw her when she was only three steps away and he called her name. Gasping for breath, Bella fell to her knees and Thorin swept her into his arms, feeling her limbs to check for injury.

She shuddered and buried her face in his shoulder, but said nothing until he did. The skin on her heels was hot to his touch and after she was able to tease about her scent, Thorin swept her into his arms and began the long trek towards the Company. Bella tried to tell him what she had seen but was only able to say a few words. “I tried to riddle with him. But I think I failed.”

“Even the elves you admire have fallen prey to the spells of dragons. I am sure you did all you could.”

“He knows I am not alone.” Bella shuddered, and Thorin tightened his arms. “And he is cruel beyond measure. He delighted in eating our ponies, and would have eaten me had I stayed a moment longer.”

“You did well.” Thorin pushed his nose into her hair, trying to calm himself. “What of the hole over his heart?”

“He showed off to me. Said his armor was impregnable, and yet the hole was there. I know not what we might do to exploit his weakness. If Kíli could get off a shot?”

“We can plan anything together.” Thorin continued climbing, the need to get Bella’s burns tended to lending his legs the strength to maintain a fast pace. Bella’s soft touch on his neck was sweet, her muttered complaints against Smaug enough to make him smile. “He doesn’t know what he did, going against a hobbit.”

“Very funny.” Some of her tart humor had returned and Thorin pressed his lips to her forehead, pleased she was recovering.

“I mean it. He knows how to deal with men and elves and dwarves. Gandalf choose well. You have done what no one else could do.”

“What’s that?”

“You confused him. And a confused dragon is a weaker opponent. He has been unchallenged for so long.”

“Mmm.” She hissed in pain as she adjusted her legs and Thorin turned his attention to finishing the climb as fast as he could, and delivered Bella to Óin’s care as evening was settling over the land.

Thorin had not realized they had been gone for so long, even as short as the days had become this far north. Óin examined her feet and delivered his diagnosis. “Just some blisters, easily tended to.” The joy on everyone’s faces as they gathered around their hobbit enveloped Thorin in the warmth of his family, but he had to sit as his legs complained about the climb he had subjected them to. After the shock of her return had faded, Bella was wrapped in blankets and Bombur began cutting up rations of food. Putting together everything she had told them of the ruined interior, Thorin thought he might have the beginnings of a plan to kill Smaug when a hush stilled the sound of nocturnal birds and insects. Just as Thorin scrambled to his feet, wing beats filled the air and Smaug’s roar boomed around them all.

“Barrel Rider! Lucky One! Your head is mine!” Thorin was at Bella’s side in another moment, and the rest of the Company swung into action with a speed that said Balin had been preparing them for another assault from the air. Wedging a rock into the door, Thorin pulled it shut and followed Glóin’s torch until the ground shook beneath them. Hard pressed to stop from tumbling down the stairs, Thorin fell to his shoulder protecting Bella from the sharp edges and lay with his body wrapped around hers until Smaug’s attack ceased. The torch had been snuffed and the darkness pressed in, thwarting even dwarvish eyes.

In the ringing silence, Thorin could only feel Bella’s heart beating with his and he gasped into her hair. If anything had happened to the others she would never forgive herself. Before he could move, he heard Fíli calling for Kíli, and slumped back to the steps as other voices joined his sister-son’s. With a flare and lingering scent of pine tar, Glóin relit the torch to reveal bruised, dusty but alive dwarves scattered about the tunnel and Thorin closed his eyes, breathing out in a long sigh of thanks.

Bella stood, looking down at her family with tears in her eyes, a smile blooming as she hugged Thorin. “We all made it.”

“Yes we did.”

“Bella!” Kíli appeared, looking between his uncle and soon to be aunt, checking them both for injury. “Uncle, the door is gone.”

“I know.”

“We’re trapped.” His sister-son’s eyes were wide and he looked much younger than his years as he stared at the walls around them. Thorin spoke with quick words, drawing Kíli’s attention and hoping others were listening as he tried to keep hope alive.

“We are not trapped. There is another way. We know the worm’s weakness now. You have your bow?”

“And a quiver.” Kíli sat at Bella’s insistence, leaning his head into her shoulder as she fussed over him.

“Then we still have hope.” Both stiffened with realization of what he was proposing, but said nothing as Thorin stood to see how everyone was doing, to make sure they weren’t hiding injuries or mortal fear that would infect the others. He found them all as he had expected. Shaken. Troubled. But resolute, dwarves all to the end. They agreed to wait a few hours, see if Smaug could be lured into thinking his attack had succeeded and try their own ambush.

There was little chance they would live through a forward assault on the dragon. Thorin went back to Bella, finding her comforting Kíli while Fíli sat next to them, holding his last knife and staring off into the distance. “Join us.” Bombur was sharing out some _cram_ , and the last of the water, joking with Bofur with tired eyes. Everyone was close, hands reaching out to clap shoulders or foreheads touching as Bofur started to hum a song. Bella pressed into Thorin’s side, accepting the blankets Nori was handing around. They had managed to save most of the camp and Thorin thanked them all, praising their efforts with a few words. Here, at the end of things, Thorin found he had nothing left to say.

No one wanted to sleep, even as they huddled together in the cold air. Thorin held Bella’s hand and watched his family wait. The silence of Erebor was oppressive. He had never heard the mountain before. There had always been the distant sounds of the mines and the workshops, the hammers of the forges and the cries from the traders. All gone now. Erebor was a tomb, the profound silence defined by the small sounds of echoes and taps from the rock surrounding them.

The Company waited, marking the watches by the dwindling torch. When they knew the sun had risen, Balin cleared his throat and glanced at Thorin, who let go of Bella’s shoulders and stood. “Are we ready?”

“Aye.” Dwalin rumbled, putting his hand on Bofur’s. “Let’s go beard the dragon, shall we?”

“Ori, you ready brother? Still want to give Smaug a taste of your steel?” Ori only smiled at his brother and patted the new slingshot at his side.

“If you are.”

“Hark at the lad, he’s ready! Lead us on, burglar.” Bella joined in Nori’s smile and drew Sting, and took one of the three smaller torches Glóin had been holding against this moment. She walked down the steps first, followed by Thorin. The flickering light made the inscriptions dance in front of his eyes. Despite the brave faces the Company had presented, he felt their fear filling the air, but their stubbornness allowed them to continue the descent, and all remained silent as the darkness at the bottom of the stairs resolved into a tunnel. Bella waved at them all to stay put and gave Thorin her torch, and disappeared. Crouching down, he closed his eyes and listened, but heard nothing that indicated Smaug’s presence. Long minutes passed before Bella reappeared and tucked her ring back into her pocket.

“He is not there. Or he is hidden, but I do not think he would wait to attack me. If we move quickly perhaps we will avoid him and make it to the gate.”

“Lead on.” Thorin handed her the torch and she nodded before taking a deep breath and leading them forward. But as they exited the tunnel, Thorin staggered to a halt. Gold. The gold of his people, his family, was piled in front of his eyes in an overwhelming display. He could hear it, the music of coins falling against each other and blocking out all other sounds. Bella paused and glanced behind her, her eyes drawing Thorin’s attention away from the hoard.

“I will go first.”

“We will follow when you call us.” She turned, her shoulders tensed, and let out a shaking breath before starting to walk away. Her little light showed her slow progress across the great cavern that had once been the treasure house. He could see the ruins of corridors and stairs that he had walked along, but could not spare them any attention from his betrothed and her progress across the hill of treasure. His breath caught as she stopped, halfway across the great cavern, and he strained his hearing for Smaug’s return. Only the quiet noises of the caverns reached him.

“What is she doing?” Dwalin whispered. “Does she see something?”

“I don’t know.” Thorin was about to say more when the small light that marked Bella’s place disappeared. The dull clatter of gold overwhelmed Thorin’s ears as he stood, air leaving his lungs. The next he knew, he was scrambling across the hoard, eyes fixed on the hill where Bella had last stood. He could hear the anguished cries of the Company behind him, but could not make out the words. All he could think of was his Bella alone and scared in the dark, and hastened along the ridge and skidded down the hill in a cascade of coins. The gold pulsed underneath his hands and he slowed for a moment as his descent landed him next to a pile of uncut gems.

There was enough light for him to see the treasures all around, promising him power beyond measure, revenge on his enemies, influence over nations. He hesitated, his hand still buried in the hill of gold behind him. Something stirred in the shadows and lavender distracted him from the temptations of mere metal. “Thorin.”

“My Bella.” He took two steps and froze at the sight before him. White light blinded him as his burglar sat up and held out the object she had been cradling to her breast. When his eyes recovered, he closed them again, certain what he had seen was illusion. But as he looked as his beloved again, there was no denying the truth. Both the Arkenstone and Bella glowed with a familiar white light, joined together to welcome him back to his Kingdom.

The Heart of the Mountain had suffered no damage from its long imprisonment. It filled Bella’s hands, more beautiful than he remembered. Unable to move for a long moment, Thorin looked to his beloved and the confusion his reaction had caused her. He crushed them both to his chest, unsure if he was crying or not as he fought for control. “You found it.” Bella relaxed against his chest, her little laugh hitching before she managed to speak.

“Only because I fell.” Her breathless voice distracted him from the stone cupped against her stomach, and he searched her eyes. He could not have asked for a better sign that she was meant to rule Erebor. He could have looked for weeks for the Heart, and his little burglar had stumbled across it within moments. The inner light of the treasure still shone in her gentle face, the same light he had seen once before, and Thorin knew his dream had been a prophetic one. He dropped his head over both his treasures and started to laugh. There was nothing that could stop him now. 


	17. Chapter 17

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> When the Company sees the ruins of Erebor, Thorin finds more treasures than he had expected and comes close to falling prey to Smaug's curse.

_Take her_

_No_

Thorin shook his head, wondering where the intrusive thought had come from and why it had sounded twisted, strange and dark against his normal internal dialogue. Bella was staring at him, her eyes still watering and her chest shaking, but her hands were sure on the Arkenstone and he reached out to touch the treasure, facets cold against his skin.

"Are you hurt?"

"No." Her voice gasped and he drew her close, glancing up as more clatter announced the arrival of the Company. Fíli led them down the slope, but the noise was muffled to Thorin's ears as he pulled Bella closer, his arms tight across her shoulders. The gold shone brighter, dazzling his eyes and reminding him of how the hoard had once been lit by torches day and night, guarded by the most trustworthy.

"Uncle?" Kíli broke through Thorin's reverie, voice low and eyes darting back and forth. "We should keep moving."

"In a moment." Thorin pressed Bella's face into his neck, feeling her heart slowing and she finally drew a deep breath. "Are you ready, _ghivashel_?"

"Aye." She made as though to stand, but Thorin held her a moment longer, knowing what was going to happen when the others saw what their Queen had found. Her shoulders tightened, but she made no noise of protest and he nuzzled her ear before dropping one hand to his side and allowing the Company their first sight of the Arkenstone. Balin reacted first, falling to his knees and covering his heart, eyes wide and mouth open. Fíli and Kíli reached out as one, snatching their hands away when Thorin gave a curt gesture.

Bella's heart was still racing, her throat humming under his touch, and she did not need any more shocks right now. Dwalin cursed, crashing to his knees, while Óin started to praise Mahal, for guiding Bella's steps, even as Glóin knelt, his eyes wide and hand clasped around his locket, face turned up at the cavern's ceiling lost in the darkness.

Dori and Ori knelt, while Nori took a knee, eyes darting among his companions as though to measure their awe. He smiled, and bent his forehead to his upraised leg, but both fists held a curved dagger and Thorin wondered who the poacher was guarding against, until his attention was diverted by the last of the Company.

The three Broadbeams took a step back, looking at their companions with narrowed eyes and tight lips. Bifur seemed to understand the import of the moment, clenching his fist over his heart before bowing his head, but he did not join the royal cousins in their veneration. They did not understand. In time their eyes would be opened to the miracle their Queen had wrought and they would take to their knees to honor her.

Bella struggled to her feet, clasping the Heart of the Mountain to hers and bowing her head low, but she did not say a word, instead pushing the gem inside her coat and glancing over her shoulder, eyes tight and mouth pressed in a thin line. She did not look at Thorin, but behind him, and he understood.

"Keep moving until you reach the Gate. If you see sign of the worm, run." Bella shivered, reaching out to take his hand and he walked with her across the rest of the gold and treasure, aiming for the half ruined stairs that led into a dark chasm in the once imposing wall. Thorin saw the side long glances everyone kept giving Bella, and knew what was on their mind.  
She held the treasure of their people. Power to control a kingdom if she wished, and for all they loved her, she was not a dwarf and could not easily understand the implications of her actions. The very air seemed to dance around her, the torches glittering across her face and hair. Well could Thorin remember the first of many speeches Thrór had given, promises of honor and power to the being who returned the Arkenstone to his hand. Thráin in turn had continued to remind and teach the generation in exile of the stone, describing the history until every child could recite it with him. And now a hobbit lass had fulfilled her promise.

Climbing the stairs behind everyone, Thorin was seized by a sudden fancy and grabbed Bella's hand, pulling her towards the guard post outside the hoard. The door leaned but still closed, and the latch still slid into place with a whine of rust and age. He heard Balin tell the others to continue on, that he would see to the King, but ignored them. He and Bella had the only weapons capable of tearing through the old wood.

His Bella stood against the wall where she had stumbled, hands clenched in fists at her side, but she didn't move as he turned from the door and started towards her, the sparkle in her eyes captivating. "My sweet, brave hobbit. You did it."

_Bind her_

_No_

"What?"

"You found the Arkenstone, _ghivashel_. Heart of the Mountain."

"Yes?" Bella took a step closer, her forehead creased. "Thorin, please tell me what you mean."

"My grandfather thought the Arkenstone was our most precious gem. It is unique. Special. Just like you, my sweet. He offered such rewards to the one who would return it to his hand. And you gave it to me freely."

"It is not mine to keep."

"But it is."

_Yes_

_She will be Queen_

_Treasure of your house_

_Bind her_

"Thorin?" Bella's voice rose as Thorin took another deliberate step her way.

"My little treasure. Can you not see what this means to us? It means we have regained favor in the eyes of Mahal. All because of you." Her face twisted in confusion.

"I don't understand."

"There is nothing to understand! It is yours!"

"I don't want it!"

"But you found it."

"I don't want it! I want it back on the throne, where you said it belonged!" Thorin stopped, considering her words. She was wise, to wish to display the treasure as it had once been, and Thorin felt some of his anger drain away. He laughed at her scowling face, the fierce nature others had tried to grind away. It was good to see the mischievous thief of mushrooms and pies again. She would need her stubbornness and fire to rule Erebor.

"As you wish, my Queen."

_Bind her_

_She will decorate your throne_

_Sit at your feet_

_show her obedience_

_all will obey_

_obey_

"Excuse you?"

_She will sit at my side_

"Exactly what I said, my Queen." Her face twisted and she questioned his use of her eventual title. She denied his love!

_She promised_

"You will leave me?" Rage like he had never known filled him and he could see nothing but his queen garbed in silks and the Arkenstone chained around her neck, cradled next to her heart. No one was worthy to see or touch the treasures of Erebor. They would be kept in his chambers, to be his to delight in and hold close for the rest of his days. It would be easy to hold them. Neither had the strength.

_Yes_

_Do it_

_Take her_

Yes. He had to protect them. There was rope enough to bind her in his chambers until the rooms could be repaired into a vault.

_Take_

There was something cold in the center of his chest, fighting against the heat of his anger. His heart calmed, cooling his blood, and the voice that had been goading him fled with a scream. The gold tinged mist that had been blinding him since he had seen the hoard fell away to show him the cold gray of the granite room. The face of his beloved was pale, but her eyes were unwavering as she stared up at him, hand over his heart.

" _Ghivashel_."

Her tear stained cheeks and dirty clothes were a far cry from the Queen of his vision, but Bella was real. Thorin looked down at his hand closed around her slender arm and recoiled, stumbling back until his back hit the wall. He was no better than the hobbits who had once hurt her! Yet here she came, holding out her hands, but Thorin fended her off, begging her to stop before he sullied her with his disease.

"What did I do?"

Nothing but put his hands on her without permission, breaking his silent promise to himself and her. Thorin gritted his teeth against the howl of anger rising in his throat, afraid he would only terrify Bella even more than he had. Her capacity for forgiveness was incredible. She would not leave his side despite his pleas, but he did not deserve to touch her, and he tried to hold his breath against the beauty of the lavender that swirled around him.

As they talked, Bella's hand on his knee tightened and her smile grew as she told him of courting ritual in the Shire. When he offered a wreath of gems in place of impermanent flowers, the design sprang into his mind full formed, framing her beauty and melding the simple tastes of the Shire with the harsher lines that so delighted his people. The sight of his mother's bead in her hair stilled his tongue. The voice had fled, but the need had not, and he did not trust himself to be alone with her any longer.

As Thorin had expected, Balin stood waiting in the hallway, his fists ready to deal with the kidnapper of his adopted daughter. Thorin's hasty explanation did nothing to erase the scowl from Balin's face, but Bella's assurances that she was fine and now understood Thorin's intentions did much to please the old dwarf. The separation paining him, Thorin offered up the Arkenstone as hostage against his behavior, and Balin accepted the gesture with a deep nod, and left them alone. The Arkenstone must have distracted him from other concerns, but Thorin could not press his advantage now. He had come so close to hurting his beloved. Bella stood watching him, her eyes tight, but she smiled when she met his gaze. When she spoke, her voice was soft and inviting.

“The air is cold. When he was here it was hot.”

“I remember." She nodded and started to follow him down the ruin of worm's path from the hoard to the Front Gate. The silence pressed down on his shoulders, but someone had lit a few of the sconces. The fuel would not last long but with his torch there was enough light. He wanted to touch the unbroken walls and find the home of his memories, but there was no time. Instead, he waved Bella on and started to make his way over the broken ground.

Thorin tried to walk away from Bella, but the cold air and the destruction had her staring around in fear, and picking her bare feet over twisted metal and broken stone. He could not leave her in such a state.  
"Let me take your hand." He did not move until she smiled, drawing close and nestling her hand in his. "We must hurry. The worm could be out hunting."

"I know." Bella shivered, but she did not show the terror of before. Instead she gazed at the ruined grandeur of her kingdom, head turning back and forth and eyes wide. Thorin teetered between his memories and the present, seeing torchlit hallways instead of the grey rubble strewn path. A small pile of rocks seemed to be leaning against the wall, and Thorin glanced down as they walked by. Empty eye sockets met his and he jerked away, his chest cold and heart racing. Bella squeezed his hand, stopping and letting him recover.

“What is it?”

“He left the dead.” She shuddered against him and Thorin held her close, wrapping his cloak around her shoulders and making sure she avoided the debris that might cut her feet. The remains of the dead soldiers were nothing but crumbled bones and armor, but he kept her face turned into his chest, and focusing on her allowed him to reach the Front Gate without falling into despair over the ruins of his home. Bella held his hand and when he paused once, tugged him forward with insistence. His hand squeezed hers and he obeyed, allowing the tiny hobbit to lead him to the end of the corridor. “Thorin?”

“Yes?”

“It’s beautiful.” She stared up at the ceiling, eyes wide. "You never said how beautiful it all was. You said it was strong and mighty."

"That is what makes it beautiful to me. We will make it so again.” She nodded in silence, but her simple words forced Thorin to glance back at the wall that had so fascinated her. It was beautiful. The workmanship was unparalleled even in destruction and would come to life with the return of their people. "But we will make it better with your help."

"My help? I've never built anything."

"Untrue." Thorin averted his gaze from a corridor where he thought he saw twisted shapes on the ground. "You built a family here. You'll build a kingdom."

"How?"

"The way you tend a garden or make a pie." Thorin could have laughed had he been anywhere else but the tomb of his people. Her eyes would scorch his beard next! "With attention and care."

"You make it sound flippant work."

"Then I misspoke." Thorin helped her balance over a thin bridge, ignoring the long fall to either side, keeping her in front of him and moving. Always moving, heading back towards their friends and family. "For your gardens and baking will do what all that treasure could not."

"What's that?" Bella gripped his hand and tugged him away from another dark pit. Thorin closed his eyes for a brief moment. He had never shared this dream out loud with her, given her a vision of a hopeful future.

"Without those gifts this kingdom will never prosper. How will we eat before we can reestablish trade? Dwarves are unused to to the labor needed for farming and tending animals. You can bring us that strength."

"Thorin." Bella turned tear filled eyes to him "Thank you." He bent to press a chaste kiss to her forehead, allowing her gentle scent to clear the smoke and bitterness from his nose. He would have to remember this. Bella needed to hear and see his confidence in more demonstrative terms than a dwarf. He had almost lost her to his assumptions too many times for him to take another chance. He knew what would prove his total trust in her, the way her retrieval of the Arkenstone had returned Erebor to him. Almost he turned back to the hoard, so intent on his new thoughts he forgot the danger, when her stifled gasp brought his head around and he saw a statue of a long dead king blocking their path. Boosting her over the crown where handholds were easier to find, Thorin scrambled after Bella in time to see her flit to the ground as though her feet were wings, graceful and sure.

"You must dance with me one day, pretty hobbit. I would be the envy of all." Thorin landed at her side, taking her hand again. "Promise me."

"If we find ourselves the opportunity I'll dance you to the ground." Her voice was brave but her lips trembled as she looked back at the statue. Smaug had ripped the face of the Longbeard king off and left the scores of his talons in the hard granite.

"You have your ring?"

"Yes."

"Then we have the weapon we need. Let's keep moving."

Rounding another corner, Thorin realized they grew close to the outside world. A faint scent of smoke said Smaug had been in the closed confines and was not surprised when Bella shuddered.

"We're close."

"He can't be here. We would have heard the others." Thorin nodded, afraid to give voice to his sudden fear, and stopped taking in the ravages of his home. A distant roar brought a measure of relief that they weren't lost, turned around in the maze of ruins. He wasn't the only one to realize the import of the first sound they had heard since Balin had left them.  
“Listen to the river!” Bella tugged Thorin closer to the ruins of the Front Gate, towards the gathered Company. “I didn’t realize it was so close.”

“It’s what keeps the road safe.” And brought life to the stale air. Picking up their pace, Thorin rounded the corner and gasped. He had known the Front Gate would be gone. But seeing nothing but the night sky where solid metal had once held firm stabbed him in the heart. He had watched that gate fall so many times in his nightmares he could no longer recall the actual event. And there stood the Company, milling around the entrance and peering around outside. The arrival of their King brought some order and Thorin saw the traces of their journey to the door in the set mouths and distant gazes that interrupted their greetings.

"No sign of the worm?"

"Nothing but his smell. Balin is watching the sky. Shall we stay here or press out, try and avoid his return?" Glóin raised a fair point. Thorin was about to order them out of Erebor when another voice cut across the concerned mummers of the rest of the group.

“Thorin!” Balin called from the wall, his voice urgent. “We need you.” Thorin let out a long breath, running his hand across Bella’s shoulders but avoiding her hair. She smiled, taking a step closer to him.

“ _Ghivashel_?”

“I want to see.”

“Anything you want.” He took her hand and tucked it into his arm, climbing the rudimentary path out to the ledge overlooking the path. A dark silhouette fluttered onto the rampart and flared wings wider than Thorin’s shoulders. Disbelief filled him as a long unheard voice croaked,

“Your Majesty.”

“My messenger.” Thorin bowed his head, as deep a bow as a king could offer, and rose. “I dared not hope to see any of you again.”

“Nor we our liege lord of old. I have heard your name from my father, and we have long waited this day.”

“I as well.” Bella took a step forward, her eyes wide and her mouth parted, but the movement startled the messenger and the great wings flared again before the long beak thrust forward and curiosity replaced astonishment.

“Who is this one?”

“I am Bella. I am honored to meet you…?” Bella trailed off, the delicate question offset by her soft manner and recognition of the raven’s status. Thorin wondered if a Queen had ever offered equal status to the ravens for all that they were a pillar of support to the throne.

“Raka daughter of Roäc.” She croaked and Bella knelt, offering her hand.

“You said nothing up on the doorstep.”

“We wanted to know if you were Longbeards or not.” Raka hopped forward, nudging Bella’s fingers with her beak. “Your kindness said much, little one. What matter of being are you?”

“I am a hobbit, from the West. Over the Misty Mountains.” The raven spread her wings and hopped from foot to foot before turning her dark eye to Thorin.

“Far from her nest. Majesty. The magpies have brought us news. There is great fire on the Lake. We think the worm is dead.”

“What?” Thorin fell against Erebor, and if not for Bella would have slipped to the ground. “How?”

“A black arrow flew through the fire and smoke and this one’s information allowed the magpies to guide the bowman.” The casual telling of Smaug’s demise had them all rooted to the ground, their heads unable to comprehend the future that now beckoned. “The other birds say he lies under the water and his fires are dead. Elves are already on the shores and the King organizes boats."

"How is this possible? He goes to the aid of Men while dwarves starved for months?" Bella put her hand to Thorin's shoulder and he closed his eyes. Face forward. "They will be at our doors as soon as they are able. If you can tell us when they start to move, Raka, we would be most grateful." She left with a cry and Thorin turned to see the assembled Company, their disbelief telling him they had heard all. They needed their King now. "Bofur, build me a wall that would hold off an army." The miner opened his mouth but Bifur gestured behind them, laughing and his cousin shrugged.

"The worm left us enough shaped rubble to build three walls if we wished. We'll need to find tools."

"Fíli, Kíli, go." His nephews spun and started to race back towards the hoard, and Thorin watched the rest of the Company fall into a work gang, obeying their shift leader and putting the first hands to repairing Erebor. Even delicate Bella did what was required, scouting out hidden weaknesses on the walls around them and falling into their easy banter with a smile.

Thorin turned and left them to their work. The gold called for him still. Smaug was dead. If he was to hold to the promises he had made, he needed more time. Plunging into the hoard, he listened to the rising whispers and wondered if the future of his kingdom he dreamed of could ever come to pass.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> So this took much longer than it was supposed to. If you come back to read, thank you and please know I want to finish this more than anything.


	18. Chapter 18

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Erebor is his, but Thorin learns it is one thing to slay a dragon and another to bring a kingdom back to life.

Thorin told himself he was finding only the best jewels for his Queen. But it was a lie. He could not bear to be close to her now, could not trust that he would not drag her away and lock her up to be his. The treasure of his people still had enough attraction he could ignore the greater pull of her beauty. He had only stepped into the ruins of the throne room, the walkways and statues ground to dust, just enough to see that the great column of the throne held the Arkenstone once again, and would not look upon the jewel until he could find a way to protect himself.

As he continued to look for amethyst, he let gold coins spill through his hands and fall back to the ground, the dull clatter reminding him of idle days long ago, when such wealth meant nothing because it had always been there. Each coin was a meal, a blanket, another day of safety.

And the Men and the Elves thought his quest motivated by greed. It was. But greed for life was no crime. They saw the power this gold represented. He could only see starving babes and weeping mothers. Lack of gold had killed too many of his people. What he held now could create a future for an entire kingdom. He let more coins fall and saw a rainbow out of the corner of his eye.

In moments, an opal the size of bean sat in his palm, lit with inner fire. He held it up towards the nearest torch and nodded. This would draw attention to the subtle shading the sun had revealed in her hair over the last months. Soon other gems and other useful things made their way into his pockets. Golden wires nestled alongside gems and stones and Thorin could feel his hands readying themselves to create rather than destroy. He found other treasures in his search, armor and weapons for the entire Company, setting them by the door until the pile grew to a veritable jumble of dangerous, beautifully crafted steel. He found the armor of many dwarves he remembered, many from the Royal Guard, or the axes and swords of fallen warriors. They had waited too long for their revenge. The weapons and the gems alternated in his hands, all reminding him of the past and making their own promises for the future.

 

After several hours Balin appeared, holding a mug of tea and Thorin's ration of the _cram_. Sliding down one of the slopes, Thorin picked his way across the endless treasure, eyes still scanning for telltale signs of amethyst.

“How does the Front Gate look?”

“Stronger.” Balin glanced over at the neat piles of armor sets and weapons and smiled. "And I see you look to our protection as well. Should I send you aid? We are running out of room for all hands.”

“Send me Ori and Kíli. Have Bella take over and decide when the wall is done. If I leave Dori and Bofur to their own devices we won't be able to get out.”

“And the rest of us?” Thorin took a deep breath. He had been thinking about the journey from the hoard since he had first made it.

“Are the halls of our dead closed off?” Balin reacted as a true councilor, understanding without judgement, already planning how best to obey his king’s orders. Everything had changed now that Erebor was theirs, and Thorin knew he would miss the casual court of the Blue Mountains. Face forward.

“Ah.”

“Get them to their final homes, Balin. We will carve tombs later, but they deserve more honor than a rubble strewn corridor. We can only wait to see what Bard and Thranduil decide to do. Any word from Dáin?”

“Not yet.”

“Then we see to the dead and we wait.”

“As my King desires.” Thorin hesitated, but Balin set the plate and mug down and bowed his way out, his proud smile saying enough. Pleased he had done something for his people, Thorin went back to the hoard and continued his search, finding an uncut emerald that would become leaves, cut into thin sheets and wound with gold wire. He was pocketing his latest finds when Ori and Kíli arrived, walking down the steps and hesitating at the edge of the hoard.

“We need armor and weapons for each of us. I’ve made a start over there. I’ve seen enough of the armory strewn about to guess he brought most of it here, but we should go see if anything remains.”

“The door lies on the other side.” Ori gulped and took a small step out onto the hoard.

“Well remembered, Ori. The Royal Armory, at least, and the only one we likely have access to at the moment.”

“I’ll go with you.” Kíli and Ori both looked at the treasure but their shoulders betrayed their tension. Thorin understood the mingled longing and fear and clapped them both on the back, doing his best to be king. After another moment, the young dwarves started to make their way across the hoard, and Thorin went back to his self-appointed task. He climbed up another hill and slid down the other side, looking for anything his passage might stir free. A glint of silver amid the gold had his hand reaching out before he could think, and as his fingers closed on the smooth metal he shivered. Mithril, not silver.

He worked the mail free and closed his eyes. He remembered this piece from the armory, his grandmother laughing about the elves who would not pay, forfeiting the mithril. “All by the contract they insisted on,” he whispered, remembering her words, and let the fine links run over his hands. Bella would look stunning in the work of her people. The delicate elvish touches would suit her slight frame and she would be safe from any arrow or blade turned her way. And all would know it was from his hand such generosity flowed.

Thorin jerked back from the mail shirt, letting it fall to the gold at his feet and covering his face. Bella. Hand on his heart. She _trusted_ him!

“Uncle, we found two complete sets at the very back of the armory but everything else is ruined or gone.” Letting out his breath, Thorin glanced up to see Kíli and Ori dragging breastplates piled high with armor behind them, scattering treasure beneath their feet.

“At the very back? What color are the breastplates?” He hoped. It would be good to see that something had survived.

“One is blue and the other red.” Despite his suspicion, confirmation overwhelmed and Thorin had to take two deep breaths before he could reply.

“Frerin’s and mine. See if it fits any of you youngsters." Ori and Kíli lay out the old armor next to what Thorin had found and both glanced at the other before Ori reached out for the helm of Frerin’s suit.

“This looks to be Fíli’s size. He should wear his uncle's armor.”

“But what about you, Ori?” Kíli stopped gazing at the blue metal to stare at his friend.

“Do you see that smaller breastplate with the sigil worked over the breast? That's the sign of my house, and I can mend the rip in the chain mail.”

“Well said.” Thorin cleared his throat and gathered the mithril coat close. “We’ll take all we can carry to the rest. Get some fresh air.” Ori had brought one of the packs they had salvaged, and with the rope Kíli had around his waist they made bundles and start back along the treacherous path. Thorin saw the rest had already taken those bodies that had so troubled him and breathed a prayer to Mahal that the dwarves would feel their honor restored.

 

The presentation of ancestral armor and weapons brought all work, even on dinner, to a halt. Dwalin and Balin immediately started to fix the chain mail on their father's breastplate, the brothers saying little as they passed little tools back and forth, but their very stillness and focus betrayed their memories. Fundin had been bigger than even Dwalin, but his son would fill his old armor and protect Erebor. “What about you, brother? What will you wear?”

“I see plenty of breastplates and mail without sigil or crest. Father would have wanted you to have this.” Dwalin nodded after a long moment, and went back to his repairs.

Fíli and Kíli had their matching sets and they tested the fit of helm and gauntlet. They had heard of these suits, and had been promised them long ago. Perhaps now they would understand the burden of their lineage. Fíli had assembled all the daggers he could find, but armor offered few hiding places and less dexterity that his old jerkins and mail had. Setting aside the smaller knives, Fíli picked up a sword instead, and became a Prince before Thorin’s very eyes.

Kíli was restringing a beautiful crossbow, stripping the hunting bow Bard had given him, nestling the stock into his shoulder to try the balance. After a few more adjustments, he nodded and set it aside to start fitting Thorin’s old armor, but his eyes kept straying to his brother. Thorin wondered what his younger sister-son saw.

Back with the unsorted pile of armor and weapons, Glóin and Óin could not find anything of Gróin or Ólaug at first, but helped sort for a time until a unique axe finally appeared bearing Gróin’s sigil on the handle. Then a helm Thorin had thought familiar appeared in Óin's hands, and the healer sank to the ground with tears in his eyes. “Mother.” Glóin put his hand to his brother’s shoulders and helped him sit. The heavy cheek guards had the intricate knot work common to the Royal House enclosing the signs of the ancient house, and a matching engraving over the wearer’s forehead. Óin held it a moment longer, then pushed it into Glóin’s hands.

“No, you wear it. So it can pass to Gimli in turn. I would have my sister-son wear this above all others.”

“May he do so with pride.” They began assembling two sets of armor, taking from family lines closely related to them, but found nothing else of their parents. Thorin knew he had only scratched the surface of the hoard and swore they would have what the others were finding.

Ori had staked his claim, leaving his brothers to find their own armor, but neither Nori or Dori said a word against the youngest. All three spoke of Austri, what she had told them of their house as they searched for their sigil, finding various pieces of armor all with the burnished sheen of steel and copper that had been the hallmark of their family.

To the Broadbeams, Thorin presented the armor of the Royal Guards, and weapons of their choice. Bombur tested two swords before discovering a mace engraved with raven's wings on the handle and a stylized head on the hammer, swinging it before resting the weapon on his shoulder. “Perfect balance. My thanks, Thorin.”

“My thanks to you, Bombur. Without your care we would have starved on the road.” They clasped arms and nodded to the other.

Bofur went over the jumble of unclaimed weapons Ori had brought, fingering swords and axes with an uncommonly serious set to his mouth. Dwalin stopped working with his brother to join his lover, bending his shaved head over Bofur's hat to whisper something that brought a smile to both their faces, and Bofur hefted a mattock with a ram's head set in the steel, handle carved with the texture of horns and topped with a mithril hoop, over his shoulder.

Bombur was helping Bifur sort through the weapons until they found a boar spear that could have been the twin of his old, save for the cross guard of engraved steel, and the old warrior started working over the blade with whetstone and cloth, turning the dull blade into a edge that could cut into any but the heaviest of plate armor.

Thorin watched the Company transform from a disparate group into an army of Erebor. The smallest army she had ever seen, but the first army in too many decades and one that would defend her the more fiercely for their long absence. His Queen sat at Bofur's side, watching them all with a smile as she rubbed a cloth over Kíli’s helm. Thorin left his kit as orderly as he could, his grandmother's axe laying across his breastplate, and made his way to her side. “I found something for you.”

“That won't crush me?” She had tried on one helm and fell when it slid over her eyes and had retreated, saying dwarf steel was too much for her.

“Not in the slightest. We made it long ago.” He unfurled the mithril chains and heard the silence spread as the rest of the Company saw the treasure their King held. “It is mithril, light as silk and stronger than dragon scale. It will keep you safe.”

“It’s beautiful.” Bella breathed, her eyes wide as she stared up at Thorin. “Like moonlight.” She reached out to run the sleeve through her fingers, shivering, eyes never leaving him. He could see the smile in her eyes, the invitation in her stance he dared not answer.

“There was matching helm at some point. If we are drawn into battle, knowing you are safe will rest all our minds.”

“If she decides to stand between you and death again at least she will look the part.” Dwalin handed Bella a jeweled belt, with a scabbard cut down for Sting. “And this is from our house to yours, sister. A fitting home for a letter opener.” Everyone gathered around as she held up her arms, letting Thorin help her with the drape of the delicate mail. She would need a tighter fitting tunic with padding to help with the fit, but she shone before them a warrior.

 

Now that his Company and Queen were armed and armored, Thorin turned to the other task that had consumed his thoughts. The Company made their camp as though they were on the road still, with defenses and a perimeter against the fortified Front Gate. Thorin understood. Smaug’s stench had not faded, and they would have little warning of an attack even with the improved defenses. And they didn’t need to see what their King would be doing lest too many hands interfere. He had little knowledge of the Shire, but he had seen hobbit women wearing flower wreaths in their hair on his journeys, and thought a bridegroom must weave by himself.

He had a few simple tools, enough to work with gold, and a small diamond necklace was sharp enough to serve as a rudimentary drill. So he sat aside from the Company, hammering a thin ring of gold to serve as the base, estimating the size of his beloved's head. And then he lost himself in the pure joy of creation, letting the gems speak to him. He made lavender, roses, mountain bells and ivy, sprinkling a few tiny opals for balance. Amid the emeralds, they shone like fireflies even in the dim torchlight, and against her honey brown curls, all the jewels would find the perfect setting. The rest of the Company was fast asleep when he joined them, save Glóin, who must be outside keeping watch.

Bella was curled under a thin blanket, and Thorin sank to his own without taking his eyes from her. He could take her now, go find a room and lock her away with her crown. He ached to feel her warmth under his hands once again, to hear that she loved him only. Standing, he left as quietly as he had arrived, and resisted returning to the hoard. He turned his steps towards the Royal Wing, passing by the throne and finding the private corridor still intact, though so foul he had to cover his face with his sleeve as he pushed onward.

Holes yawned beneath his feet as he reached the wing proper, where the marks of Smaug's claws had gouged through walls and floor alike. He ignored his grandfather's rooms for now, and went for his own, the door gone and the front room missing half the wall. But his bed chamber was largely intact, save for the treasures, and he gave a low cry of shock at seeing his old harp still leaning in the corner. How could Smaug have missed the gold frame and enchanted strings? Trembling, Thorin spent long minutes cleaning the sweeping curve, and knelt in the middle of the floor, running his fingers along the strings and producing a pure cascade of notes that brought tears to his eyes and peace to his unquiet mind. His mother had taught him on this harp, and he played her favorite song, the notes echoing weirdly amid the ruins, but still beautiful. One song led into the next, and he soon lost track of everything but his hands on the strings and the flow of the never-ending music. The last time he had played was Rivendell, when he had first confronted his growing attachment to Bella, and the song he played now was the one he had begun all those months ago perfected, all trace of bitterness swept away with the memory of their first kiss, the trust in her eyes when she had invited him to her bed. When his fingers ceased to move, his heart continued the melody, and Thorin returned to his family with the harp under his arm and his heart singing. He found Bombur at the fire, but the rest were already up at their tasks despite the early hour, bringing water, cleaning clothes and preparing for another day. It was a comforting scene, but played against the ruined grandeur around them lent a feeling of unreality to the familiar actions.

Bella was at the Gate, staring out at the River, but shook herself and went back to putting stones where Dori directed, creating blinds for archers as a finishing touch to the defenses. She was the only one light enough to stand at the top now, and Thorin held his breath before calling her name. She turned, beaming when she saw him, and scrambled down the parapet, her formal braids contrasting her dirty clothes, but all Thorin could see was her smile. “ _Ghivashel_.” Words failed him and he took a deep breath, aware that the rest of the Company now watched him. “I offered you marriage by the customs of my people. Let me now offer my hand in yours.” He knelt and proffered the glittering crown, wondering what else the customs of her people demanded, but his throat closed on whatever words he might have said. Bella’s face softened into a beautiful smile, the smudges of dirt on her face and the dark bags under her eyes only showing how hard she worked for their kingdom. She nodded and took the wreath with both hands, shaking, but took a deep breath and clutched her crown to her chest.

“It's the most beautiful thing I've ever seen.” Thorin reached out to still one of the amethyst crystals, unable to keep his eyes from Bella’s smile.

“It will be your crown.” The rising sun bathed Erebor in golden light, softening the damage of the dragon and showing what the land and mountain could be. Thorin caught his breath and stared as the Erebor of old returned for a moment. He turned and saw the hope in his heart reflected on the faces of his closest friends. “Look well. This mountain will one day rise as a kingdom unmatched in this world. None will dare bring their might against ours. From this day, Erebor lives again.” The Company cheered, the valley ringing with their voices, and Bella took Thorin’s hand as the sun continued climbing and the gold faded to the light of day. Together, they led their people into their kingdom.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> [Sivsdotter](http://sivsdotter.tumblr.com) deserves thanks for inspiring me to finish this chapter. Thank you all for reading.


	19. Chapter 19

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> A crown might make a Queen, but Erebor and Thorin have more to offer Bella as war comes to the Lonely Mountain.

Night closed over a secured Erebor. The ravens were out scouting, but there was no sign of movement from Lake Town, and the entire Company took their ease around the fire until Fíli and Kíli called for their aunt to show them Thorin’s proposal. Bella’s crown settled on her braids and her family gathered close, while Thorin waited to hear what they thought of the craftsmanship. The firelight brought out the gold and subtle highlights their journey had brought to her hair, and against the gold band the change was more obvious than ever before. Glóin went so far as to pull out a loupe he had somehow acquired and asked permission to look closer. Bella bent her head, a smile playing over her face as the gems were scrutinized in silence. “He did a good job selecting them, at least. Tell us what these flowers mean, sister. I have forgotten some of what you taught us.”

“The wreath itself is the most important.” She raised the crown off her hair, taking a moment to make sure the wires were clear of her braids before lowering it to her lap. “Courting wreaths have a long history in the Shire. There’s not much to the flowers except showing you’ve paid attention to what your intended prefers, and Thorin did a better job than most. This is lavender.” She caught Thorin’s eye and winked, but went back to her explanation. “The red roses mean love eternal. What kind of jewel are they?”

“Rubies and rhodochrosite.” Glóin glanced back at his king, and Thorin inclined his head. “They mean something similar to us. The mingling of blood, and family.”

“And the lavender?”

“Amethyst.” This time Balin answered. “Love.” The entire Company nodded, and they continued the exchange of flowers and gems. Ivy for unwavering support, emeralds for desire, though Thorin had chosen them because of his beloved’s eyes. He did not share that out loud, but noticed even in the torchlight how Bella and her crown seemed to glitter. Sapphires for the line of Durin, mountain bells for triumph in adversity. The opals confused her until Thorin said they were fireflies, and her pleased laugh told him enough. “I’ve never seen such colors. And my wreath will last forever.”

 The crown was handed around and given approval, and given back with an admonishment from Nori to be careful of her treasures. With the mithril mail in her lap, Sting at her side and her crown back on her head, she was royal, sitting among her loyal subjects but apart. No trace of the frightened, hesitant grocer remained.

Thorin settled back and watched her yawn, pleased when Fíli took over setting up watches for the night and chivvying the Company to their bedrolls. Despite the short rations and uncertain future, they were home now, and the confidence and pleasure his dwarves showed at such a simple fact told Thorin all the sacrifice and pain had been worthwhile. He dreamt of gold again, but the shadows were gone and flowers grew from the piles of treasure, until everything he could see was covered in something green and growing. A rough croak jolted him from sleep and he rolled over to see Raka dancing back and forth, peering at him with one eye then another.

“Is it morning?”  
“The sun will rise soon enough. You must get your warriors ready. Several boats arrived and now the men look like they are preparing for battle.” Awake in an instant, Thorin barked a few orders and waited until he saw Dwalin out of his bedroll before turning back to Raka, secure in the knowledge his captain would keep the others moving. “There is more. The fat Master has been pushed aside and the people look to Bard for leadership now. I have heard him called King of Dale, but not by his own mouth.”

“Thank you for warning us. Make sure you stay away from the elves. They would remember our people’s alliance of old and not hesitant to shoot.”

“Never fear, we stay in sun when we can and know how to hide. Smaug never found our rookery.”

“I would not lose any of you to overconfidence.” Raka flared her wings and croaked a few times, but Thorin knew she was laughing at him and wondered how old she really was. Daughter of Roäc she might be, but she still acted like an unblooded warrior.

“We will bring you more news when there is some, your Majesty.” She took to wing and was gone even as the Company began to garb themselves in their armor, helping the others with backplates and hard to reach buckles. Bella, her mail easily slipped on, and Sting in her new scabbard, came over to him with tight lips.

“What did Raka have to say?”

“The people of Lake Town are coming, and with Bard as their leader, not the Master.” She nodded, digesting the new information. “I will need you at my side, my Bella. For your wisdom.” A smile met his words and she helped him into his armor one piece at a time, her nimble fingers able to give him a better fit than he had felt in ages. Despite her protests, he left his helm to the side for now, so he could speak and see without impediment and avoid causing offense. Up the road he saw pikes catching the light before they stepped into Erebor’s shadow. Letting out a slow breath, Thorin put his hands on the parapet and closed his eyes. He was King here. His words had power. He could begin or end a kingdom today. Lavender assailed him and Bella was at his side, her breathing slow and deep. Slipping into her rhythm, Thorin felt his heart slow and hands relax, and opened his eyes when he heard the echoes change.

When the Men of Dale and the Elves of Mirkwood arrived, the Dwarves of Erebor stood ready. Armed and garbed in royal armor, standing on a new made wall, Thorin knew they presented a different picture from the refugees clad in cast offs that Bard had last seen, or the bedraggled prisoners Thranduil had taunted. Thorin waited, holding Bella’s hand as the beings down below milled and sorted themselves into a ragged line where they could meet his gaze.

“Greetings, King under the Mountain.” Bard bent his head as to an equal, maintaining eye contact. So Raka spoke truth. “Greetings from Dale and Escargoth.”

“The Master has fled?” Some of the men stirred but Bard didn't blink. 

“Dale and Escargoth have decided to let the line of Girion speak for them for now. They suffer for lack of food and shelter in these cold climes, your Majesty. If you had not stirred the dragon from his lair, they would have their homes.” Thorin waited. He knew the thrush had told Bard of Smaug’s weakness. Bella's kindness and bravery had led to the dragon’s downfall. “The treasures of Dale were taken into Erebor. That gold could clothe and feed those who suffer.” Bella nodded, but with such a small movement Thorin knew the message was meant for him only. Her advice met his ears in a threaded whisper. He did his best to keep his face calm, but her advice was good even if it rankled him to give into such demands.

“And the elves? You bring armed soldiers who held us captive to enforce your claim?”

“They are our long standing allies and offered their aid.”

“A remarkable response. Elves watch Dwarves die for the same want but come to the aid of Men.” Bella hissed but Thorin met Thranduil’s anger with his own. The dead screamed for vengeance. Balin would have wife and child if Greenwood had opened their gates! “Are you merely the threat behind these demands, or do the elves think they have a claim against me?”

“The greed of your grandfather brought Smaug hence. Ever since he arrived, the Greenwood turned dark and the spiders became bold. To be known as Mirkwood, to watch my people suffer and draw away from the light of the Valar, has pained me. All our suffering these past years can be laid at your door. We have come to help see that justice is served to all in these lands.”

Thorin felt the snarl and dismissal of his enemies rise in his chest but Bella squeezed his hand and started to whisper, forcing him to take a deep breath and listen. “And what will they give us?”

“What do you offer in return?” Thorin did have the satisfaction of watching Bard and Thranduil surprised. Bella continued, her hand still gripping his as though she could keep him safe through will alone.

“The weapons and belongings that they took from us.”

“You might think of what was taken from us when we enjoyed the hospitality of your cells. How can we bargain in good faith with thieves?” Bella grumbled, but her smile grew as Thorin continued. “We would gladly treat with Dale alone, Lord Bard. We do not rejoice in the suffering of your people.” Bard nodded, his face smooth, but the anger of the elves was palpable and the two groups left with some space between them. 

“That was well aimed, Bella.”

“Not much different from the squabbles of my people.” She spoke of her grandfather with obvious pleasure, eyes shining. The dwarves stirred. She was from a line of leaders, whatever their title. No wonder she could be as imperious as any King. Thorin named her princess and watched her blush. Balin reminded them of the debt Erebor owed the killer of Smaug, and Thorin named the tribute wergild for the dead. With such heavy reminders, the Company agreed to go back to the hoard and begin the long work of teasing out the treasure of Dale to return to her people. Thorin made sure Bella and Balin both had charge of the daunting task and left them to their work. He had another charge, self laid but important, and he could not face the hoard again. 

 

Thorin headed for one of the topmost marketplaces, where many of the jewelers and silversmiths had made their stalls and workshops. He needed a proper courting gift. Too many hours had been wasted on imagining. Though the destruction he confronted had been expected, it was hard to take the first steps into the pile of rubble that had once been the liveliest market of Erebor. He still remembered where the different shops had been and picked his way across the gouged tiles to partially standing buildings of white granite. The dull polish reflected his lantern’s light back at him, and Thorin spent a moment smoothing away the dust to admire the selection. Inclusions of mica made the wall shine brighter and he saluted the stonecutter who had made the selection.

With the right lighting, this ship would be a beacon against the darker stone of the cave. Ducking underneath the broken lintel, Thorin found a scattering of jeweler’s tools across the floor, and a broken slab that must have been a display table. 

The workshop was in the next room, more tools and small gems tossed about in a dazzling mosaic. This was hopeful. Going to the workbench, Thorin started to open drawers and tried not to let his disappointment rise as he found nothing but more tools and blanks for all manner of jewelry. This was a treasure of another kind for a returning jeweler, and part of him hoped the original family that had once worked here might one day return. He was about to give up his search when his hand bumped against a knot on the side of the desk. It was too regular, and he pushed, exulting when the button recessed and a hidden drawer popped open. 

Inside, the lining of crumbled velvet cradled a full vanity set of mithril, set with sapphires and diamonds. There was a large comb in their center, surrounded by little pots, containers and a hand mirror. The sapphires showed the cycles of the moon across the handle, the smaller diamonds scattered as stars. Thorin took the comb, the heavy metal cool against his palm, and pictured it running through Bella’s lovely curls. 

The whole set must have been made for a courting gift, and he wondered if he would ever find out the original owner. Surely they would not begrudge their King the chance to put the long lost treasure to its original purpose. With quick movements, Thorin transferred the entire set into his pockets. He would space the gifts out, but would start with the comb. Imagining her reactions and those of the Company amused him as Thorin made his way back towards the Front Gate. 

 

Imagination was nothing against the pure delight in Bella’s eyes and voice when he knelt at her side and set the comb in her hands. She clutched the treasure to her chest and stared up at him, speechless for long moments. “It’s spectacular!” She questioned how she could use something so beautiful even as her family crowded around. Most gave Thorin pleased smiles at the appropriateness of his offering, but Balin took longer before giving his King a deep nod. If Bella was a princess of the Shire, there were news forms to be followed, and even if war loomed, it seemed those closest to Bella would look after her interests. The confidence that filled him at the sight of her smile gave him the courage to be more demonstrative, even if the Company looked on. His Bella needed to hear him proclaim his feelings, and he would begin now.

“It’s a courting gift. And if you don’t want to use it on your hair you could always use it on mine.” The reactions of the Company were exactly as expected, with the lone exception of Nori, who grinned openly and waggled his eyebrows at the couple. Bella lowered her chin, but looked up at Thorin from beneath her eyelashes and her next words knocked his breath away.

“If you think you can handle it, my king.” The indrawn breaths and quiet gasps were nothing against her smile. Thorin matched her smile with his own, and stepped forward to take her hand.

He was overwhelmed by her scent, the frank desire in her eyes and stance. Bella, cheeks pink but smile wide, took a step closer and Thorin could wait no longer. She had said a hobbit couple engaged were given time apart, where private kisses and promises could be exchanged. They might go to war tomorrow, and if he could have one last night at her side he would bend custom. Before any might interfere, he started to walk away, ignoring Balin’s scandalized cry and Dwalin’s threat to follow them. They would not dare. He heard his mother’s teasing laugh in his head and knew he was not the first to push to bounds of courting so, especially in Erebor. His people had grown smaller in their exile in some ways, held to things they could control with all the strength they had. Bella would help them grow again.

He led Bella along a damaged ramp, holding her close, until they were in the gallery over the hoard. Even here, piles of treasure were stacked in heaps, but with Bella's song in his heart and Bella herself at his side, Thorin did not feel anything for the cold metal. He found an alcove, wall intact enough to provide support. He swung his coat onto the gold coins and sat down, opening his arms for his sweet hobbit to snuggle close, her head pillowed on his shoulder. His mind raced, but he settled on what he wanted to tell her. “We were never meant to be.”

“Hmm?” Bella’s head jerked up in surprise, but Thorin soothed her, hands on her back.

“Dwarves were not part of the first song.”

“Oh. Yes. Balin told me the story. Why the hammer is a threat and a promise.”

“We wandered. Long, long years. Durin left Gundabad alone. He braided his memories to his head and beard in beads he carved so he would never forget, and later he recast them in mithril once he had discovered the seven stars. On our own exile, we could only carry our wealth in the same manner. Let me tend to your hair and reweave my promises and my memories so that neither of us will forget.” 

Bella handed him his courting gift with shining eyes, and Thorin undid her braids, setting aside the three beads and burying his fingers in her thick, honey hair, bending close until the lavender of her skin came close to intoxicating him. She arched into his fingers massaging her scalp, sighing his name and going limp as he continued. He dug his thumbs into her neck, convincing the muscles to relax, before he picked up the comb and started to run it through her locks. 

Bella’s hair was damaged, but he was gentle and convinced the fine strands to lie flat and smooth after a time. He was about to start braiding, but Bella stirred and turned in his arms, glancing up at him before wiggling away and taking the comb from his grasp.

Thorin tried to catch her, but she was behind him and the comb was in his hair, and she pressed herself into his back as she started to comb the knots from his mane. Unable to move, Thorin closed his eyes and surrendered to her. The feeling of the comb on his hair combined with her warmth was incredible, her gentle movements and the sound of her breath washing away all the tension and anger the confrontation with their besiegers had brought him, leaving his head clear for the first time in days. Her hand brushed against his ear and Thorin had to laugh when she gasped, snatching her fingers away from him. He could imagine her pretty face flushed and reached back to squeeze her ankle, pitching his voice low as he teased her.

“You are very nice to look at.” She looked him over with pursed lips that trembled into a teasing smile. “Very nice indeed.”

“You overwhelm me.” Her cheeks were still flushed and as she raised her eyes to his, her pupils were wide even in the light from the lantern. 

He knew what she wanted. But he could not take her here, on a bed of gold out in the open. “Bella.” He wanted to taste her again, hear the way she said his name when she was riding her peak. “Come here.” Rucking her tunic over her hips, Thorin unlaced her delicate underthings, and buried his nose into her damp curls as his tongue darted inside of her sweetness. Bella’s fingers tangled into his hair and her thighs clamped around his face as Thorin withdrew his tongue to lavish her little pearl with all his attention, his fingers digging into her hips to pull her closer.

“Thorin! Thorin!” She wailed and ground against his mouth, and Thorin laughed before teasing her with a soft kiss. Bella growled, raking her nails against his scalp and tugging at his hair. Obeying, Thorin returned to bestowing her with attention, until her entire body quivered against him as she cried out and ground against his mouth until she collapsed, gasping for breath. Wiping at his beard, Thorin soothed her with soft kisses down her legs, but his little hobbit always had a knack for surprising him.

“My turn to repay you.” Unable to speak as she wiggled down his body and fumbled with his trousers, Thorin could only lie back and stare at the ceiling far overhead as she wrapped her tongue and lips around the aching head of his cock. He was at her mercy, her tentative touch turning bold as he whimpered and cried her name as his oversensitive skin burned under her touch. He spent himself too quickly, but her laughter and gentle kiss to his thigh told him Bella didn’t mind. She held a finger up to her lips and caught at some of his release, and Thorin caught her to his chest, kissing her and thanking her for her selflessness, generosity in sharing pleasure with him. He named her perfect, but her response brought him up short and he tried to understand. Bella had been starved of real affection for too long, and he knew he would have to start slow, build her confidence before he could heap her with the praise and love he felt. 

 

By the time he was ready to reaffirm their troth, Bella’s eyes were closed and he had to say her name twice before she responded. She scooped the beads from the ground by her hairy feet and held them close as Thorin told her the braids were meant to support a crown, and the weave down the center of her back was designed to display the courting beads he ought to have presented her over the years. Bella smiled at his frustration he had so little to give her and silenced him with a hand to his cheek. “One from your hand is enough for me.” Thorin pressed a kiss to her outstretched palm, taking the bead from her. 

“Once things are more settled I will drape you in flowers. Even if I have to send caravans back to the Shire for them.” Bella laughed, and Thorin held out the few jeweled hairpins he had found while searching for suitable ornaments. “I can only offer these.”

“They’re lovely.” The mismatched gems were perfect, a reminder of her crown, and Thorin took his time arranging them to his satisfaction. Once he was done, he surveyed his work and bent over her hand. 

“With these braids you carry a symbol of our intent to wed. I love you, Belladonna Baggins, and you have proven yourself a worthy Queen for this Mountain you’ve helped reclaim.” Tears filled her eyes, but her smile was sweet and she glittered in the light of the lantern.

“I love you too, Thorin.” She could say no more, but her eyes told him all he needed to know. She remembered dragon fire and knew the struggle for self Thorin had undergone the past few days. Without her he would have been lost. One day, when he stood before their people and Mahal, he would play the song in his heart and she would know the rest. For now, they were together.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> We're stumbling ever closer to an ending. Thank you for reading.

**Author's Note:**

> If you want to see some of the inspirations behind the story, check out my [tumblr](http://steampagan.tumblr.com/)


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